


Secret Valentines

by ToxicBabes



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Bottom!Blitz, Bottom!Doc, Crushes, Fluff, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Marriage Proposal, Romance, Series of Oneshots, Smut, Top!Lion, Top!Montagne, Wholesome af, more tags to be added soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-15 13:32:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16064165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicBabes/pseuds/ToxicBabes
Summary: Every February, Ash and IQ organise the Secret Valentines event where members of Rainbow are randomly assigned to one another.





	1. "Cluster Charge activated." [Fuze/Jäger]

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in this fandom and I hope you like it. Due to the lack of information in the operator biographies I've just tried to wing the characterisation or take inspiration from how others have portrayed them. This is a series of oneshots with most being romantic in some kind of way.

Every Valentines, Ash and IQ would arrange an event that often sent the whole of Rainbow whispering and giggling. Secret Valentines, sign-up and get  _ randomly  _ assigned to someone else. Most people did it for fun, take their ‘date’ out for dinner or do double dates just as friends. It was teambuilding, mostly, rarely did people actually get together as result of this but some do. 

Fuze reclined in the sofas of the break-room after a long training session, nursing his bruises with a cup of strong coffee. He wore a smug grin on his face, he managed to eliminate many people today with his cluster charges and chuckled at the memory of Bandit dropping his training rifle in a huff. “I wasn’t even in the blast radius!” He had complained, but it didn’t help his case, he was already eliminated. The training sessions always brought out the competitive side of everyone.

He had closed his eyes momentarily when he felt the sofa sink next to him and he looked over to see Glaz ripping open a protein bar. For a few seconds he had been staring too long at how Glaz’s thermal shirt clung tightly to his muscular body.  _ His eyes are up there, _ Fuze reminded himself and his eyes quickly flicked up to Glaz’s face, glad to find that he didn’t catch him staring. Then his thoughts trailed and he began to admire how Glaz looked without all the dark face paint marring his features. 

The truth was, Fuze admired a little bit of everything in everyone. He thought his own teammates in the Spetsnaz were attractive, oozed over the GIGN boys who were built like Greek statues, blushed at the thought of the GSG9 men who were charming with their humour that never failed to make him laugh. He couldn’t begin with the other men in Rainbow. 

“Eliza and Monika are doing that thing again for Valentines,” Glaz struck a conversation with him in their mother tongue. “I bet they’ll pair up Tachanka with Finka this time, it’s bound to be if they both sign up. I’m making him sign up.” 

Fuze grinned at the thought. “Do you think they pair up people based off rumours and gossip on who’s crushing on who?” 

“Of course. Or whatever pairs look cute together, that kind of stuff,” Glaz said with a chuckle. “Remember that year when they put Caviera with Buck? That was funny. Next they’ll be pairing Doc with Lion…”

IQ and Ash entered the break room with excited smiles on their faces, each carrying a small stack of pink pages. From where he sat he couldn’t hear them but saw that they were passing out the pages to everyone. They eventually reached the two of them on the sofas and gave them both the forms.

IQ put her hands on her hips. “Do it this year, Shuhrat. Try it.”

“Fill it in, it’ll be be fun.” Glaz nudged him with his elbow. “I’ll do it if you do it.”

Briefly scanning over the information slip stapled into the front of the form, Fuze then flipped it over and snagged a pen from the coffee table. He filled in his name, email then paused briefly at the ‘preference’ box that prompted him to choose whether he would prefer to be paired with men, women, or both. There was also a box for no preference. He looked over at Glaz for a moment to make sure he was completely occupied before quickly ticking the box for ‘I prefer to be paired with men.’

It was all fun and games, he knew that, but if someone had went up to him and asked if he had a specific person in mind that he dreamed to be paired with, there was, and while it was a one in a million chance the opportunity was still there to take. 

On his way out he put his form into the box by the announcement board and tried his best to forget about it but every instance where his mind slipped he found himself drifting back to wondering who he would be paired with. He imagined the crazy scenarios that could happen, from getting laid to even a relationship. In the end he told himself not to get his hopes up and expect an easy-going evening in the pub with whoever he got. 

On a dreary Monday morning which marked the first of February he received an email that woke him instantly from his sleepy haze. Over the weekend he had managed to let it slip from him that he had signed up for it. In panic he minimised the window and spent a moment trying to make sense of this, whether the name he read was actually what he thought it was. 

He checked his surroundings. At this time the workshop was relatively empty. From the other side of the room Mute was tapping away at his computer, Jäger’s desk was empty and Twitch was busy kicking the printer in hopes it would get it to work. 

The coast was clear. He opened up his emails again and blinked numerous times to make sure his eyes weren’t tricking him.  _ Marius Streicher. _ No way. Yes way. This was real, he wasn’t dreaming. He scanned the small descriptions of likes and dislikes, what Jäger liked in a partner and saw that it was vaguely filled in. Although that was always how Jäger was, a private man who didn’t share many details about himself.

Fuze liked to believe they were good friends, they spent hours toiling in the workshop to perfect their gadgets and often caught a beer together after a long day of work. He would be insane to think this but Fuze always thought there was something about Jäger that suggested there was mutual attraction between them. When they spoke- often about work and their gadgets- it seemed that there was something about Fuze that brought out the talkative side in Jäger that always went into hiding when someone else came into the room. 

It’d be a fair statement to make that Fuze often found their eyes meeting often, whether if it was him getting caught staring or Jäger staring at him. Daydreaming was the German’s excuse but Fuze liked to believe otherwise. 

The only problem was that the both of them were incredibly shy when it came to matters regarding a relationship. Recalling an old conversation, Fuze remembered Jäger admitting he’d only had a few girlfriends in the past but preferred to focus on his work instead and in return Fuze let him in on the secret that he never had any girlfriends at all, but never told him the reason why- he rarely felt attraction towards women, or had the courage to approach the ones he liked. With men, Fuze never had the guts to dip his toes into a relationship. He was afraid to for many reasons.

He always liked the comfort of being in the closet, even if it was terribly lonely. The only times he ever came close to outing himself was the rare times he got drunk enough to flirt with patrons at a bar. He downloaded the occasional dating app but only found sleazy hookups and casual sex through it. For a while that was enjoyable and satiated his curiosity, but it never took away his cravings to  _ love _ another man. 

Was this the leap of faith he was willing to take?

His thoughts scattered like frightened cats when the muffled sound of German became louder and louder, approaching the room. The door opened part way, Jäger’s fingers curled around the handle but his head turned away, looking at someone in the hallway. They spoke some more, Fuze recognised the other person’s voice to belong to Blitz. There was laughter, the sweet sound of Jäger’s chuckle before he said goodbye and entered the workshop. 

“Morning everyone,” Jäger greeted and drifted towards the space heater at the corner of the room like a moth towards lamplight. He put his hands over the vents where hot air gushed out. “I think we need more of these heaters. It’s cold in here, hm?”

“We should build a big one,” Mute suggested with a grin. He was still bundled up in his big coat, scarf around his neck. “Nab one of Dom’s batteries, a little soldering and we’ve got a radiator the size of Montagne’s shield.”

“That’s if it doesn’t burn down the building when you turn it on,” Twitch said, giggling. “Mark, do me a favour and unjam the printer, will you? Stupid thing breaks every time  _ I _ want to print something, it’s got something against me.”

After several minutes Jäger left the comfort of the radiator and took a seat by his computer. They shared the same desk, monitors opposite of one another but Fuze closed his emails to be safe. He logged in, and like everyone else did in the morning, he opened his emails as well. Fuze watched him from the corner of his eye. It was amusing. Jäger furrowed his brows, squinted his eyes and wore a look of pleasant surprise when it sunk in.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Fuze met with the others in the gym. As per usual they warmed up on the treadmills, jogging away their tiredness. Glaz was a morning person, he came in targeting Fuze with a curious smirk. For the longest time Fuze tried to ignore him and kept his eyes trained at the horizon beyond the glass windows. 

“Who’s the lucky girl?”

“It’s a secret.”

Glaz kept glancing over, his toothy grin growing. “Alright. I’ll take a guess,” he decided and spent a few minutes thinking. “Maxim, who do you think he likes?”

Kapkan gave a shrug, beginning to smile as he was dragged into one of Glaz’s friendly jests. “Hard to say,” he said then hummed. “Definitely not Ying, that’s obvious. You and Mira  _ did _ spend a lot of time together in the workshop… making  _ improvements _ to her gadget, hm?”

Fuze almost let out a laugh and shook his head. “Nope.”

After their warm up they moved onto strength training. Fuze definitely felt the burn in his muscles after several sets but the annoyance brewing inside him from the constant guessing only drove him to work harder. With every suggestion he shot them all down with a curt ‘no’, a tight-lipped grin across his face as he strained to finish his last reps. By the end of the session everyone had been stumped. 

“That’s all the women that work here,” Tachanka said, visibly confused then he counted on his fingers. “Are you lying to us? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Shuhrat.”

Sat upon the benches at the sides of the room, Fuze finished guzzling his water and looked up at the three of them. “I’m not lying. I’d never lie to you guys.” Which was entirely untrue, because there were numerous times Fuze stole Glaz’s protein bars from the breakroom and lied saying it must’ve been someone else. 

Glaz scratched his buzzed head, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. “Well, you’re clearly embarrassed about it when we ask, so it’s obviously someone you like, yeah? So if it’s not any of the girls then… it _ has _ to be one of the men, right? Holy shit.”

There was a guffaw of laughing, the loud voices of the GSG9 invaded the gym. For several minutes it had attracted the Russians’ attentions and they all looked over but then they looked back at Fuze who was feeling somewhat naked, forced out of the closet by his own stupidity. He should’ve said yes, it was one of the girls, yet he played himself and ended up in this sticky situation.

Tachanka put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, who’s the lucky man?” 

On the other side of the room the Germans were joking about in their mother tongue, teasing each other. Without knowing what they were saying, it was probable they were also talking about the Valentines event as Blitz had a tomato-red face and Bandit was wheezing between fits of giggling. Jäger was there too and gosh, his smile could give Fuze a heart attack. 

“It’s Marius.”

 

* * *

 

As of the evening, Fuze had ten days to prepare something to surprise Jäger with. At first he considered just getting him a nice bouquet of roses, but that was simple and absolutely boring. Somewhere deep inside him he wanted to do something impressive, something to really wow him. For hours he sat in front of a blank computer screen, contemplating what he could do but no good ideas came to him, not until the clock hit midnight and it struck him. 

The thing that initially brought the two of them together was their desire to keep improving, the friendly competition between them to build something better and more powerful to counter the other's gadget. Not only that, their friendship bloomed most when it came to working together, exchanging ideas on small changes and the lightbulb moment they always experienced at that. Fuze knew Jäger was always seeking for ways to make his ADS better, to be able to intercept more charges, and he knew well Jäger would be interested if he told him he could create something his ADS couldn’t catch.

In the dead of the night he snuck into the supply room and dug around until he found the pink card which IQ and Ash used to print out the leaflets onto. He brought a good stack back to the workshop and made haste with cutting out little hearts. This was to be the confetti. Then there was the pink pigment powder- for dramatic purposes, Fuze wanted it to be elaborate, almost in a comedic way otherwise stupid paper hearts exploding out of his cluster charges would look pathetic- and in the emergency case that Jäger didn’t actually like him he could pretend it was a big joke.

By two o’clock in the morning he was only done cutting out the hearts. He gathered everything up, shoved it into the drawer on his desk and left for bed.  _ Nine days _ , he thought as his head hit the pillow when he got back to his dorm. 

With this plan he could hide in plain sight. He tinkered with his cluster charges at day, made adjustments to the force applied to project the charges so the confetti wouldn’t get blasted to the ceiling. Then when night fell and everyone left, he loaded the empty cluster charge with confetti, powder and glitter. One issue he didn’t think of was the clean-up process. It was known to mankind that glitter was impossible to clean up and he realised this after his first test of his new cluster charges.

The floor was bright pink, peppered with little hearts and the glitter glinted under the blink of the fluorescent tubes on the ceiling. It took him more than an hour of his night to clean- to clean sufficiently so in the case that Jäger wanted to test something tomorrow, his plans won’t be foiled. There were still specks of glitter on the floor when he finished.

This wasn’t the end. The first test told him he needed to adjust the charges again, increase the force. He needed to find the perfect amount, not too little but not too much. He made a note on a post-it and left the workshop with a sigh.

Those late nights were exhausting and the others noticed, especially when he would almost fall asleep during breakfast. Glaz, with his eye for detail, raised a brow at the specks of glitter stuck to his skin and the pink powder under his fingernails, but didn’t ask what he had been plotting to do, not at first. Fuze too noticed something had changed, something out of the ordinary. He saw Glaz’s paint-stained hands, or the specks of black paint on his thermal shirt he usually wore. 

“I’m making a painting for Taina- Caveira,” he told him one morning when they went for a morning jog. “I don’t plan to… pursue her, if you understand me, but I think she would appreciate the gift. Too many people say her facepaint makes her frightening, but honestly, I think it’s beautiful. Well, what are you doing for Marius? 

The cold air was harsh on his throat, it reminded him of Russia. Fuze tried to keep up with the pace. “It’s hard to describe,” he said between huffs for air. “A surprise.”

They came to a stop at a bench and rested there for several minutes, trying to catch their breath. Fuze wiped the sweat from his brow and took a long drink from his bottle, checked the time then stood, ready to go again but Glaz remained seated. 

“Sit. Let’s talk, or well, I just want to tell you something. Don’t look so panicked.”

Fuze did as he was told and sat back down on the cold steel bench. He could feel his chest tightening even though he was told not to worry, it was just a natural reflex in him to get uncomfortable at the line ‘let’s talk’. He looked over at Glaz, waiting for his words to come. 

“When I found out you liked Marius, I was… shocked you kept it as a secret for so long. I know that people from our home will not agree with this, with you being in love with another man, but I just want you to know that we support you,” Glaz began, his words earnest. Fuze’s attention perked at ‘we.’ “We had a chat about you the other day and Tachanka felt that it was important to let you know that we don’t think badly of you and we’ll always be by your side, you don’t have to keep secrets from us. We are brothers after all.”

Fuze liked to believe he was not one to get emotional over a sappy and sentimental speech, but he felt himself getting choked up, the feeling of his jaw stiffening and throat getting raw. If he was to be truthful to himself, he’d always kept his sexuality as secret in fear of judgement and to hear his closest friends still loved him was an immense weight off his shoulders. 

Glaz stood and offered him a gentle smile. “Let’s get back to base,” he suggested.

 

* * *

 

The prototype took longer than expected to get ready for a large variety of reasons, one being that people were staying late in the workshop to finish up last minute paperwork and Fuze couldn’t have the privacy he needed to blow up glitter and confetti, not with the great glass wall that divided the computer lab with the testing chambers. His days were dwindling down and on the night of the thirteenth he managed to get everything into order. 

It was late, just several minutes past twelve- which meant it was officially Valentine’s Day. All he had to do was sleep for a couple hours, wait for Jäger to come into work and strike up a conversation that he had something interesting for him to see. It would be simple, the only hard part would be what came after the surprise, and quite frankly, Fuze didn’t have a script prepared.

He slipped into the break-room for a beer, maybe a bag of crisps to reward his efforts. 

“Good, uhm… morning?” Jäger greeted him when he entered, raising his hand. “What are you doing up so late?”

Fuze dug through the fridge and snagged a can of beer. “Paperwork. I’ve been slacking,” he lied and clinked his can with Jäger’s before taking a big gulp of it. “Took me hours.” 

“Don’t let it snowball,” Jäger said and clicked his tongue, smiling lazily. “It’s easy to say ‘I’ll do it later’ but then at the deadlines you end up having fifty pages-worth if paperwork to do, hm?” 

Fuze agreed silently with a nod then knocked back the rest of his beer, he was thirsty after all that cleaning. He looked over at the scattered cans on the countertop and figured Jäger was on his fifth beer. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked, wondering why he would be drinking alone. 

Jäger nodded. “Just relaxing, that’s all. I think I’ll sleep at the base tonight, I definitely won’t be getting behind the wheel at this point,” he said and nodded towards the cans. There was a slight flushness to his cheeks, his movements were slow but he wasn’t quite drunk yet. “Do you want to drink with me?”

It was hard to say no to a face like that. Fuze sat himself down and popped open another can, readied himself to delve into a long winding conversation. He would describe them as close friends, they could talk about anything, from their aspirations in life to sharing experiences of struggles and doubts. Sometimes they would talk about stupid things like the mischief they got up to in their childhoods, but some days they would mourn over losses of friends and colleagues in their careers. 

To be able to open up to someone like that, and have them do the same in return was an intimacy Fuze hadn’t ever experienced until now. He knew Jäger’s secrets, knew of his struggles with socialising, reading other people. In return Fuze admitted himself he preferred to deal with machinery than to deal with people, because a defective cluster charge won’t be passive aggressive for whatever unknown reason.

It was until two o’clock that Fuze decided it was time to call it quits. Their conversation was nearing an end, Jäger could tell he was losing focus from how much he was yawning.

He put his can in the bin and gave Jäger a pat on the shoulder. “Bedtime for me. Don’t stay up too late, Marius.”

“Good night, Shuhrat. It was nice talking to you.”

Their eyes lingered on one another for a moment longer. “Yeah, it was nice.” Fuze nodded and waved goodbye on the way out.

 

Fuze slept in that day, right until twelve o’clock. There was joy in the air at the base, surprises revealed and arrangements for dinner or drinks at the pub made. He made himself look presentable before heading into the break room to scavenge for food. Jäger was nowhere to be seen, perhaps he was still sleeping or hidden somewhere on base. 

Fuze knocked on his dorm room but no answer came. He lingered there for a couple minutes before concluding the room was empty and wondered where he could be. The answer wasn’t hard, Jäger was always tucked away in their workshop whenever there was any big social event going on, only leaving when forced to attend one. That’s where he found him, occupied by a cup of coffee and reading an email regarding a mission. 

“Afternoon,” Jäger said when he heard him enter. “Sleep well?”

“Like a dead body,” Fuze joked and put a hand on his shoulder to grab his attention. “Come to the test chamber, I have something to show you.”

It definitely perked his interest. He spun around on his chair. “Can you give me an idea of what it is?” He asked with a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

“Erm… let’s just say your ADS can’t stop it.”

They set up the cluster charge- Fuze checked meticulously to ensure it was the right one, and not the normal ones that actually explode- and placed two ADS on either side of it. Jäger seemed suspicious at first, he studied the cluster charge thoroughly before returning it to Fuze, finding there was no difference between this one and a normal cluster charge, though he had missed the small specks of glitter on the underside of it.

“I don’t get it,” Jäger murmured and narrowed his eyes with a playful smile. “Are you trying to prank me?”

“Of course not.” Fuze gave him the trigger for the cluster charge.

He could really feel his nerves getting to him. He wished he had some notion on what to say if this went successfully, how he would go about admitting to Jäger he’d been crushing on him for a while now. His eyes naturally gravitated towards Jäger, watching his reaction, waiting for any kind of expression. 

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

_ Click.  _ There was an eruption of pink everywhere, plumes of thick dust clouds billowing out like gas with every charge that exploded, glitter shimmering and confetti hearts sticking to the blast proof window of the test chamber. The ADS whirred rapidly in all directions, the little LED flickered wildly, it span in visible confusion as if they were sentient. There was a blank look on Jäger’s face, then a smile grew and he began to laugh. 

“Fuck! You got me… I forgot what day it was today.”

A wave of relief ran over Fuze, he felt the tension in his shoulders dissipate and found himself smiling as well. “Do you like it?” He asked, chuckling. “And as cheesy as this is, will… will you be my Valentines?”

Jäger composed himself and looked at him, crinkles at the corner of his eyes from smiling and he was radiating with happiness. He didn’t even reply and stepped forwards, pressing his lips to Fuze’s. There was a brief moment of shock where things didn’t quite register, but when they did Fuze relaxed and responded by placing his hand on Jäger’s hip to pull him closer. His lips were soft, his motions leading but not dominant, and his palm moved to gently cup Fuze’s cheek. 

Fuze put an arm around his waist, feeling the soft fabric of his green hoodie and the distant smell of deodorant. His other hand wandered to his lower back and rested there against the thick fabric of his denim jeans, his fingers playing at the belt loops. They could kiss for hours like this. There wasn’t any height difference between them and Jäger was slightly slimmer than Fuze was, just perfect for him to put his arms around Jäger like how two matching pieces of a puzzle slot comfortably together.

In this close proximity he could smell Jäger’s aftershave, such an addicting scent. Their lips parted momentarily, eyes opened to peer into one another’s but their bodies remained as they were, pressed against each other, sharing their warmth. 

“I’ve made dinner reservations for seven o’clock this evening,” Jäger told him. “I hope you like French cuisine.”

“I love it.”


	2. "Always a pleasure." [Lion/Doc]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lion is surprised to learn Doc is his secret Valentines, but uses this to his advantage to reconcile and make up for his past actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW Chapter, significantly longer than the first but I just went with the flow. A little more story-based too but I just felt like throwing those tidbits in since Lion's biography as so dense and had more details I felt 'why not use it?' And I also plan to make another one shot of this that continues after the events of this one, but that will be a separate one shot that I will post on its own.

When Lion signed up for the Valentines event, the last thing he expected was to see Doc’s name. He sat bewildered on the first of February, staring at the email on his screen. What on Earth were IQ and Ash thinking? Everyone knew his relationship with Doc was in an awkward place, it was unable to be saved as much as he wanted it to be. There were two outcomes to this. Don’t do anything about it and let it go away or do  _ something.  _

A box of chocolates? A bottle of wine? Lion quickly scanned down the lists of likes and dislikes to find Doc enjoyed a medium rare steak, hated flowers and his favourite chocolate was Ferrero Rocher. Two ideas popped into his head, either get him the chocolate or take him somewhere nice for a steak, talk about things and try to straighten it all out. Why not both? No, that would be over the top.  _ One step at a time,  _ he told himself. 

Though truth was, Lion did want to make things right with him, he had for a long time but never knew how to go about it. They hadn’t spoken since the accident in 2015 and ever since joining Rainbow he tried his best to avoid stepping on Doc’s toes, but ended up stepping on other people’s toes instead. It was just who Lion was, he was an acquired taste indeed.

It wasn’t about seeking forgiveness but to be able to earnestly apologise for a mistake he had made, a costly one that had affected Doc the most. At the time he was following his instinct to stick to protocol, he weighed up his choices and done what he thought was right. To this day he still had the occasional creeping thought. _Was it the right choice?_ _Were those lives worth it?_ The idea of playing with life and death never settled right with him, the power should never fall into his hands as a human capable of mistake yet time and time again he found himself making the impossible choices, and 2015 was one of them.

Nowadays they don’t acknowledge each other outside of missions and normal business. Not even a nod or a ‘hello’ when they pass each other, Doc always kept his eyes ahead and pretended not to see him. Lion couldn’t do the same, he tried but always found his eyes flicking over to glance at him as they passed. Examinations in Doc’s office were always dead silent, words only spoken if needed and everything done quickly to rid the both of them the uncomfortable situation. His smiles were fake, tight lipped and his tone void of emotion, not friendly but not contemptuous. Doc maintained a strictly professional relationship with him and made it clear they were merely colleagues, not friends.

Pushing aside their differences and the fact that their relationship was stale as old bread, Lion would admit he thought Doc was an attractive man. His hair was always brushed back neatly, kept trimmed at the sides where he was beginning to grey. Many times he overheard Doc asking Rook whether he should dye the grey away or leave it as it was and if he were to ever consult Lion, Lion would give his honest opinion that the salt and pepper look made him look even more handsome. 

Doc wasn’t among the tallest men in Rainbow but his body was proportionate, thick with muscle in the right areas and he looked smashing in a suit, Lion discovered that at a formal dinner night. His skin was tan, not a blemish could be seen. He had light wrinkles at the corners of his eyes which deepened when he grinned, a sight Lion rarely saw. 

It was a week till Valentines when they actually spoke to one another. Lion knocked on the door to his office and waited until he was given permission to enter. The smile on Doc’s face diminished ever so slightly when their eyes met and he motioned for him to take a seat on the examination table while he collected the things he needed. Several days ago Lion had sustained multiple wounds from training after a gruesome knife fight with Kapkan- which he did not win, Tachanka had eliminated him by flanking him while Kapkan had him distracted. 

“Take off your shirt,” Doc ordered softly as he slipped on a pair of nitrile gloves. Lion did as he was told and shivered at the cool air brushing against his skin. His hairs stood on end, tense as he was. “You’ve pulled out one of your stitches,” he said with a hint of disapproval in his voice. He had spotted the specks of dried blood on Lion’s pectoral where the stitch had burst. “Why didn’t you come to me earlier?”

“It was late. I fell, so either I rip my stitches or bust my head open,” Lion explained and tried not to wince at the discomfort of Doc prodding at his tender wound. “I didn’t want to wake you up at midnight.” He doubted Doc would even be asleep at midnight, but it was easier to lie than to tell the truth that he was afraid to bother him outside office hours.

“You could’ve at least cleaned it,” Doc continued to criticize as he cleaned the area with a damp cotton pad dipped in some hydrogen peroxide. With medical glue he sealed the edges of the wound together. “If any of your cuts get infected, I don’t care what time or day it is. You come to me, understand?”

“Sorry,” Lion mumbled and held steady as Doc applied new dressings then moved to check on the other cuts. 

“How did you fall?” Doc then asked. “Did you hurt anywhere else?”

“I just… tripped. I was taking my laundry basket to the washing machines and missed a step on the way down,” Lion admitted and began to put his shirt back on. “Clumsy, I know.”

“Indeed,” Doc agreed absently as he scribbled some things down onto his clipboard. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

_ Ask him out to dinner. Tell him you want to make the reservations. _ Lion sat blankly for several seconds trying to organise the words in his head into a sentence. “Yeah, actually- well you can’t help with it, it’s just something I want to discuss with you,” he said, feeling his heart beat a little faster. “Have you checked your emails?”

Doc gave him a look, the condescending look that asked ‘are you stupid?’ Of course he had checked his emails, everyone does that. “I’ve seen it,” he said with a hum then crossed his arms. “I understand going out with another man for Valentine's may go against your… religion, so I won’t be offended if you decide you want to cancel. Although it would be interesting as to why you would choose to be paired with both women and men.”

“It’s not that,” Lion interjected and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I do want to do something with you this Valentine’s- not in a romantic way,” and this was how Lion dug his own grave of humiliation. “Unless you want to- I mean I’m not attracted to you but-”

There was a look of amusement on Doc’s face, he began to smile. “Start over, Olivier.”

Lion took in a deep breath. His skin was hot all over, he hoped he wasn’t blushing. “I want to take you out for dinner, I just want to know if you’re available on the fourteenth,” he said and rubbed his sweaty palms together.

The long pause between them was torture. As the seconds crawled by, Lion wanted nothing more but to crawl into a hole and disappear under Doc’s scrutinising gaze. 

“Depends. Do you have somewhere in mind?”

The arrogant side of Lion would’ve joked and said McDonald’s, but that side of him had went into hiding the second he entered the room. “Emmanuelle said you like Lester’s Steakhouse, I was thinking of making reservations there unless there’s somewhere else you prefer,” he answered as if it was a test. 

Doc gave a nod of approval. “That’s perfect. Tell them the name’s Gustave, we’ll get the better tables.”

Lion made mental note and hopped off the examination table. “Alright, I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“Keep those wounds clean.” 

It wasn’t too hard, Lion thought as he left in a hurry, but it was arguably the most panic he had experienced in a long time. He had expected the worst out of this interaction, imagined how Doc would reject him and act like he was crazy for proposing the idea of getting dinner together but now he realised he had just sent himself down a harder path. Dinner would be the awkward part, for one, Lion barely knew him, and two, the only thing he could think to talk about was their past. 

Secondly, would it even be okay to address their past  _ during dinner?  _ The last thing he wanted was to spoil a good meal by bringing up bad memories. Perhaps it would be better to bring it up later, after they’ve eaten. Lion found that the steakhouse wasn’t far from his apartment, they could talk about it over a glass of wine back at his place, assuming Doc would be willing to come back with him. 

In the afternoon he rang down to the restaurant and made the reservations under Doc’s name. He was lucky to have called at that time as the woman who answered the phone had said he managed to snag the last spot before they were all full. He didn’t want to return to Doc telling him they would have to reorganise, it would be another awkward conversation.

That evening they ran into each other again, taking the same elevator down to the lobby. Lion’s eyes flickered between them and the screen displaying the floor several times, eyeing him through the mirrored walls. He cleared his throat.

“Is seven o’clock good for you?”

Doc gave a hum indicating yes and slipped out the doors just as they opened.

 

* * *

 

Rook and Twitch visited his apartment on the thirteenth. Since Lion had moved to England he hadn’t had a single visitor until now and he didn’t realise the lack of decor until he dusted the place down. Most of his furniture was from IKEA and followed a plain colour scheme of black, white and the occasional primary colour. He didn’t care much for looks, just comfort as he always assumed no one else would come into his nest. 

“Christ, you make my apartment look like a landfill,” Rook commented when he entered the living area. “It’s so clean in here, isn’t it?”

“That’s because you’re a slob, Julien. But yeah, it’s nice, always good to see a man knows how to keep his house clean,” Twitch said as she put her bag on the sofa. “All you need to do is light a candle or two, add a houseplant and you’ve got a studio apartment from Hollywood.”

Lion felt a smile grow on his face. “I’m not one for interior decoration but I will agree, I need to buy a painting or a few plants to put in here. It’s too plain,” he said as he prepared some coffee. “So are you two planning to do anything tomorrow?”

“We’re gonna grab lunch, do some shopping… the usual. We’re always paired together, for the past three Valentines. I wish I could get someone different- not that I don’t love you, Julian, but it’d be a nice change. I suppose you’d like to get a handsome man next Valentines too, I know I would.” Twitch giggled at Rook’s mock-offended look and put a hand on his arm. “You’re my platonic soulmate.”

“You two are too cute,” Lion muttered as he brought over the cups of steaming coffee, one white for Twitch, one loaded with sugar for Rook and for himself, strong and black. 

Over their drinks they chatted for a while over the usual things like work, hobbies, and Lion quickly realised how he didn’t have much to say for himself. He didn’t have many hobbies, or interesting ones- in his spare time he volunteered at church events and helped out although he didn’t feel that it was interesting whatsoever in comparison to water-skiing in the tropics or whatever crazy things others got up to in their vacations. He spent evenings at the soup kitchen, prepared baked goods for the usual weekend bake sale and occasionally helped out his elderly landlady with the leaking tap or squeaky door hinge. 

Eventually Lion proposed they got the job done. The two of them came over with the intent of helping out with outfits instead they spent a good hour and a half lounging on the sofas, gossiping and watching TV. Before they all knew it was the late afternoon and he didn’t want to keep them too long. 

The bedroom was just as immaculate as the rest of the apartment. Yellow patterned bedsheets were free of any wrinkles and the bed was made like a hotel. Lion took pride in his cleanliness. Rook’s attention shifted to the shelves where he studied the small collection of books and vinyl records. He pulled one out and admired it. 

“I used to love them when I was younger,” he said, a smile growing at the edgy album cover of a punk rock band from decades ago then he put it back. “You still listen to them?”

Lion shook his head. “Not anymore, but it’s a good memento.”

Twitch was busy digging through his wardrobe and pulled out several shirts and sweaters which caught her eye. “You’ve got so many nice clothes in here, Olivier. How come we never see you in them?” She let out a sigh and held up a deep burgundy sweater which Lion didn’t even know he had. “You’d look lovely in this.”

“Well, you never see me outside of work,” Lion reminded her and took one of the outfits laid out on his bed. “I’ll go put these on.”

It took ten different outfits before they managed to round it down to three similar ones to choose from. Rook insisted a dark navy sweatshirt complimented Lion’s eyes or a muddy green sweater which would go nicely with the strong auburn colour in his hair. Although Twitch argued the deep red looked far better with his skin tone- which Lion didn’t even consider at all. 

In the end he stood in front of the mirror holding up the sweaters, chewing his lip on deep thought. It was Valentines after all and red was the colour for it, plus it was the least itchy sweater he had. 

“I’ll go with the red,” he finally decided.

“See? I told you,” Twitch bickered at Rook with a playful grin.

“Hey, I tried to help. Maybe you should wear the blue one if you catch a second date with Gustave,” Rook suggested and Lion snorted at the idea. “You never know. You two might get along.”

“We’ll see,” Lion said with a cocked brow.

 

* * *

 

Valentine’s Day, Lion entered the office wearing the outfit he had planned. Everyone was dressed up today, it was strange seeing Thermite wear something other than cargo pants and a scruffy looking t-shirt, today he actually wore chinos and a pressed shirt. It was as if he had been transported to a different universe where the office and breakroom became no-man’s-land for anyone who had hay fever. There were bouquets everywhere.

Some operators settled with exchanging a box of chocolates with a card. Lion passed by Glaz who was studying his chocolates, scanning the little leaflet that described all the flavours. He was talking to Caveira, the two of them exchanging their pleasantries and in her hand she had a small framed portrait. It was an abstract piece of work, a series of mottled greens with a black and white skull signature of her face paint on it. 

There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in the GIGN office, though Lion spotted an unfamiliar face. Over by the scanner, Blitz was there chatting up Montagne, the tips of his ears bright red and they seemed to engrossed to notice his entrance, especially Montagne who looked eagerly at Blitz as if he was a delicious snack. Lion felt himself cringe internally at the thought. 

Twitch was actually at her terminal for once rather than hiding in the workshops. She always complained it was difficult to work in the office due to Rook being the biggest distraction on earth with his non-stop talking, but the truth was, she was also a non-stop talker. They were perfect for each other.

Lion signed in on his computer and blocked out all the noise and chatter as he tried to focus on doing something productive, whether if it was research or paperwork. Eventually he settled for reviewing old footage from his body camera to refresh his memories of past missions. The paperwork wasn’t going to do itself. 

At some point he had lost track of time. He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and he turned on his chair, taking out his earbuds and met Doc smiling down at him. It wasn’t a condescending smirk, this time he seemed friendly. 

“Time to go,” Doc reminded him. “Unless you’re having second thoughts.”

Lion quickly saved his documents and logged off. “Of course not,” he murmured as he fished his coat from the back of his chair. 

They entered an empty elevator and Lion took this opportunity to study him through the mirror. He was huddled up in his big parka, wearing a more casual outfit than what he would usually work in and what was most different was that he looked alive. Not his usual expressionless face with his resting frown and heavy-lidded eyes. Today the corners of his lips were lifted up, his eyes held a glint of excitement. 

A blast of cold air hit them as they exited through the lobby doors. The walk over to Lester’s Steakhouse wasn’t long but the brutal winds had the both of them shivering as they hurried into the small restaurant to warm their hands over the radiator. 

There was a hearty scent in the air, tables were decorated with pristine white clothes with roses and candles. The lights were dimmed slightly, Lion questioned if they were darkened to make the atmosphere more romantic or if they were always like that. Then his attention snapped back to the waitress when she told them to follow her, he recognised her face from somewhere but couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

“I didn’t expect to see you on Valentine’s but it’s lovely to see that you’ve got a date,” the waitress said as she seated them and her eyes lingered on Lion for a moment too long to make him feel suspicious. “So how did the two of you meet?”

Then it clicked. Like a deer in headlights, Lion blinked back at her, lips parted but no words came out.

“We’re just colleagues,” Doc answered for him and gave her a pleasant smile. “Taking advantage of this Valentine’s deal,” he joked.

She laughed forcefully, it was so fake that Lion couldn’t help but to muster his own artificial smile and nodded long. “Ah, right. Well I’ll leave the two of you to have a look at the menu.” And she left them, but Lion suspected she was probably watching them from a distance.

Doc waited until she was gone then looked over at him. “You seem… surprised. Do you know her?” 

“She’s from my church,” Lion answered back in French and scanned down the menu. “I didn’t know she worked here. It caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“Who cares if you’re on a dinner date with another man? I’m sure people at your church have done worse things and gossiped about affairs and divorces before.” Doc averted his eyes back down to the menu, responding back in French as well. “The church says to love the sinner, hate the sin.”

“You’re right,” Lion hummed. “I can only hope she doesn’t go around telling everyone about this. It’ll be awkward for sure… So what sides are you having with your steak?”

“Mashed potatoes. Anyways it’s hardly her business, don’t think too hard about it.” Doc turned to the wine menu. “Even if you do like men or not… you okay with pinot noir?”

Lion paused and looked at him. “Pardon?”

“The wine. Is pinot noir okay or do you prefer something else?” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” Lion nodded and felt his palms beginning to sweat. “I’m good with any wine, really.”

A smile grew on Doc’s face, he chuckled. “You don’t have a preference because you don’t drink. I’ve read your files, Olivier. You don’t have to drink any if you don’t want to,” he assured him. “Don’t feel pressured.”

“W-well, I do want to, so I’m going to,” Lion stammered back with an embarrassed yet competitive grin. “I can limit myself.”

“Don’t blame me if you get drunk after one glass,” Doc muttered then waved down their waitress to put in their order. Once she had sauntered off again they turned back to their conversation which had fallen short. Lion took a long drink from his glass of water, trying to think of all the conversation topics he had memorised the night before but none came to mind. “You took a few days off last month for your son’s birthday, how was that?”

A smile grew at the memory. “Well Alexis’ father- his step-father actually arranged for him to come see me, I was surprised when he contacted me about it. Erm… so I flew to France for his birthday, his stepfather and I took him paintballing with a few friends of his,” Lion said, finding a new enthusiasm growing inside him. “I taught him how to aim properly, never saw him smile so much… he’s good with a gun too.”

Doc gave a soft chuckle. “He takes after you, I suppose. What happened after?”

“We went for dinner, had dessert and everything. Played a couple video games with him, whatever the kids play nowadays. That was great while it lasted, Alexis had school the next day so he had to get ready for bed,” Lion recounted. “I spoke to Claire, his mother… my ex. Things are, well, awkward but she was glad I could make him happy. He started texting me the other day too, I’ve never been happier.”

“I’ve never seen you talk about something so keenly,” Doc commented. “It’s good to see things working out for you.”

Lion took a pause and looked over at him. “What about you? Got family?”

“All in France, I go back once in a while to visit my mother… she always hounds me about finding a wife, but I’ve been a proud bachelor for quite some time now,” Doc said, seeming coy all the sudden. “I haven’t been out on a date for so long until now- not this is a romantic date, of course-”

“I understand. Why not? You haven’t been out on the hunt?” Lion asked with a easy-going smile. 

Doc laughed then shrugged. “Relationships aren’t my thing. I don’t like my significant other worrying about me when I’m away.”

“That’s reasonable.” Lion gave an sympathetic nod.

Their food arrived moments later, steaming and aromatic. Lion didn’t realise how hungry he was until he felt the slight tension in his gut as his eyes caught the thick cut steak on his plate. They clinked their wine glasses and quickly dug into their meals. 

Now Lion knew why Doc loved the place, the food was perfect and the wine wasn’t the cheap shit most restaurants would serve out. For how much the entire dinner costed the price was a steal. They feasted like kings that night and it ended with hot brownies and a side of ice cream.

He was so sure he would gain at least ten pounds from that meal alone. They rested on the brink of a food coma as they waited for the bill, slugging down the last of the wine and exchanging satisfied smiles. When Lion saw the bill he briefly considered paying for it, it wasn’t too much but he decided against it, they were just colleagues after all. They split the bill and went on their merry way.

The night only got colder. A gust of icy wind had knocked out any feeling of tiredness in them, they were alert and shivering as they ambled down the pavement, shoulders bumping and mist billowing out of their mouths and nostrils. Even with his big coat Doc was trembling from the cold, so Lion took off his scarf and insisted him to have it. 

Reluctant, Doc took it and quickly wrapped himself in it. “Thank you,” he murmured then looked around the street. “Where are we even going?”

“I live not far from here, just a five minute walk,” Lion explained. “Would you like to come in and have a glass of wine with me? There are some things I’d like to talk about with you.”

A spark of curiosity lit up Doc’s face. “I’ll take the whole bottle,” he joked. “Of course I’ll come.”

The apartment block came into view after a couple minutes of walking. Lion keyed in the code on the number pad and they took the elevator up to the tenth floor. All kinds of sounds resonated as they made their way down the long hallway, echoes of an argument from above, a baby crying to the left, and on the other side of the hall a dog barked loud enough to be heard. 

“I’ve got noisy neighbours,” Lion sighed as he fumbled with the keys.

“I can tell.”

Shoes kicked off by the door, they didn’t waste time getting to the kitchen and retrieving two glasses. Lion poured a little into his own glass then gave Doc a slightly more generous serving, but poured more when Doc gave a dissatisfied look. Only when the glass was half full did he gave the nod to stop. 

Doc unwinded the scarf from his neck and folded it neatly before setting it on the arm of the sofa. With his glass of wine in hand he let his eyes wander and take in the view of the apartment. His attention drifted to the photos on the mantelpiece, he picked up the small portrait of Lion holding Alexis when he was just a baby. For several seconds he studied it before putting it back where he found.

“What’s it like? Being a father?” He asked and sat down next to Lion, looking at him with a gentle gaze. “I used to want kids, but it’s too late now. For me anyways.”

Lion gave a shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know. I never really… took care of Alexis when he was younger, his mother and I separated shortly after she became pregnant and I was dealing with all kinds of issues. Y’know, the stuff in my file that you’ve read,” he said then gave a bittersweet chuckle. “I wish I was there for him when he was younger, but he’s got his stepfather who is a much better father than I’ll ever be.”

“It’s never too late to try again,” Doc reminded him. He took a long sip of his wine and studied his expression, considering he may have hit a nerve with the question. “You wanted to talk to me,” he said and changed the subject.

“Yeah, I did.” Lion nodded and drank some wine as he collected his thoughts and planned his words. “I know this was a long time ago but I realised I never had the chance to properly apologise to you about it. My decisions back in 2015-“

A soft chuckle escaped from Doc, his lips twisted into a sad smile, forcing Lion into a confused pause. “Olivier, it’s in the past. I’d like to keep it that way,” he said and poured the both of them more wine, filling Lion’s glass more than he would’ve liked although for Doc it was his usual portions. “For the longest time I was so  _ determined  _ to hate you for what you did. I wanted to despise you, I wanted you to know that I loathed you. But now, it’s different. I’ve moved on, I let them go and I realised you were just trying to do your job, you had to protect as many people as you could even if it meant making a sacrifice. I’ve opened my eyes to that now.”

He continued after a long sip. “Every time I reflect back on it, I think my colleague would have agreed with what you done and he would have told me I was crazy for trying to stop you,” he said and smiled once more. “I’ve forgiven you, Olivier. And I want you to move on too.”

There was a long silence between them. Lion looked down at his reflection on the dark surface of the wine and felt his breath hitch when words tried to come. “Thank you,” he managed to say. “I’ve always felt so… guilty for what happened. You were so distraught over it for the longest time, I didn’t want to make it worse by intruding in your space so I guess I tried to avoid you. Gustave, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be guilty. It was the right choice.” 

Their eyes lingered on each other. Lion’s eyes were glossy, blinking back and his cheeks were a warm rose colour from the alcohol. He quickly looked away and drank again, savouring the flavour as he let his thoughts soak in. 

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Lion humoured him as he reached for the wine bottle again. “You drink fast.”

“I’m surprised you’re not drunk already. Me? I’m just getting started,” Doc said and laughed. “Do you want more?” 

“Sure.”

A late night stand-up comedy show started airing on the television. British humour never failed to make Lion chuckle. They sat there for a while, shoulders touching from how the sofa sank in and brought them sitting slightly closer. His attention didn’t drift until Doc took his glass of wine and set it on the coffee table. 

“Is something wr-“ 

Doc didn’t hesitate to capture his lips into a kiss, his hand moved to firmly palm his cheek and Lion felt himself become pliant to his touch, sinking into it as he kissed back. Breaths brushed against skin and hands began to roam carefully, testing new boundaries and exploring uncharted territory. Lion put his arm around Doc’s waist and pulled him closer, he wanted to feel his warmth and the weight of his body against him. 

He hadn’t experienced anything like this in a long time, the rush of adrenaline in his body had his heart thumping and breaths shuddering with every small inhale between kisses. Doc kissed him like an old lover, his hand threaded through his hair, running through gently while his other paced up and down his arm, rubbing it in an assuring way. 

Doc pulled away and looked into his eyes. “Olivier, we can stop if you’re not okay with this,” he told him.

“No, I want to,” Lion whispered back and took his hand. “C’mon.” 

Their lips made contact again before they were even two feet from the sofa. There was more tongue this time, a hint of boldness in how Doc hiked up Lion’s sweater to let his hands run across the bare skin of his abdomen, feeling at the firm muscles. Feet stumbled in a drunken tango as they drifted slowly and eventually towards the bedroom. Lion felt his back against the wooden door and he used his foot to kick it open, not wanting to come apart from Doc for even just a second.

Doc pressed him into the bed, one hand finding its way to his neck and the other on his cheek. His touch had Lion submissive, obedient to his soft commands of “take it off, take it all off.” 

Though before Lion could even unbuckle his own belt Doc had straddled him once more and taken the liberty of kissing and sucking the pale flesh of his neck. A soft groan escaped from Lion’s lips as their hips grind and Doc’s hand dipped between his legs to palm him through his chinos. He was already fully hard. 

Doc made quick work of the belt, tugged it loose then popped the button of Lion’s trousers and yanked down the zip. His hands moved with grace and a determination that told Lion exactly what he wanted. Doc stroked him through his briefs, eliciting a sharp gasp. “I want your cock in me, Olivier,” he demanded softly, looking him in the eye. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

The pleasure was overwhelming. “Oh Christ…” Lion whispered, letting his head fall back onto his pillow but he wanted to see, he wanted to watch as Doc took his cock into his hands and played with him. He jerked him with a firm grip, grinning as moans and heavy breaths punctured the quietness of the apartment. 

There was a wet warmth around the tip of his cock, the kind that made Lion gasp again and the muscles of his abdomen contract. Doc’s tongue dragged along the underside of his uncut cock before his lips enveloped around the tip, suckling gently as the tongue lapped at his foreskin. He began to take more of him in and struggled to make the last inch without choking slightly. Lion’s hand sprung to Doc’s head, snaring his hair to push him down more then he let go and he kept his hands to himself, balled them up in the bedsheets, fought his urge to thrust his hips.

“Oh, fuck. I’m gonna come, Gustave. Oh-“ Lion’s toes curled as he felt a familiar tension in his loins. Doc stroked him as he caught his breath, using his other hand to wipe his spit-covered chin. 

“Got lube?” Doc asked as he stripped himself of his dark wash jeans, tossing them aside with all their other clothes. Lion retrieved it from the nightstand and pulled him closer. He spat in his palm and began to stroke Doc’s cock, though his movements seemed hesitant and unsure. “That’s it,” Doc murmured, praising him. “Don’t stop.”

Lion looked up at him, round blue eyes contrasting his reddened cheeks so wonderfully that Doc wondered how he managed to get in bed with such a beautiful man. He pressed several gentle kisses along Doc’s collarbone, eyes fluttering shut as his lips moved along smooth skin. His eyelashes were long, curved upwards just like his cock in such a way Doc would think God intended for Lion to be made so perfectly. 

Fingers slick with lube, Doc reached behind and began to finger himself. He couldn’t help but to let a soft growl slip as his fingertips brushed his prostate and he began to message it, imagining how it would feel when Lion’s girthy cock was deep inside him. He thrusted his hips into Lion’s fist, watching how his cock disappeared into his grip and he badly wished it was Lion’s lips around his cock instead. 

“Do you have any condoms?” Doc asked as he wiped his fingers on a spare tissue. Lion shook his head, almost embarrassed and Doc smiled as he questioned whether it was embarrassment at not having condoms or the idea of owning a pack. “That’s fine, I’ve got one in my wallet.”

He didn’t waste any time. The wrapper wouldn’t open so he tore it with his teeth and tossed it onto the bedside table. With care he rolled it down the length of Lion’s shaft then squirted a dollop of lube onto his palm and spread it evenly. Lion leaned forwards to kiss him, lips dragging over his jaw where he could feel Doc’s stubble and pick up a hint of expensive cologne. 

Doc straddled his hips and guided his cock into position, slowly lowering himself as his body gave way and relaxed to accommodate for Lion’s thickness. Lion let out a guttural moan, his fingers digging into Doc’s thighs and his eyes shut in bliss. “You’re so tight,” Lion murmured, eyebrows furrowing and he bit his lip as Doc began to move. “Fuck, that feels good.”

The bed began to squeak with every bounce and thrust. Skin slapped and breathy moans sounded out as they fucked, apathetic to disturbing the neighbours at this time of night anymore, the only thing they cared about at this point was getting off. Doc could feel the vibrations of Lion’s deep moans as they kissed and he groaned back at the sensation of Lion stretching him wide and the perfect curve of his cock rubbing against every good spot. Every brush against his prostate sent shivers up his spine, waves of bliss through his body, tingling like electricity. 

He opened his eyes and looked down at Lion who let his hands leave the comfort of his hips and run up his chest, feeling his firm pectorals and abseil down to his abs. Their eyes met and Lion sat up, his hand placed onto Doc’s lower back for support as he flipped him onto the bed. He let Doc’s legs rest on his shoulders and began to thrust lazily, his head tilted back and lips parted, panting softly.

His hair stuck up in all kinds of directions and cheeks were now a deep shade of red as if he had been exercising. The sheen of sweat rested on his skin, highlighting the contours of his muscles. The small gold cross he wore twinkled in the dim light, jostling against his chest as he drove himself deeper into Doc, craving more of his heat. Ragged breaths grew heavier along with the intensity of his thrusts. As he neared his climax his breaths were fast, short and with every exhale he let out a groan. He buried his face into the crook of Doc’s neck and took in his scent, gasping desperately as he rutted his hips in hopes his orgasm would come soon.

His cock twitched and pulsated as he came with a howl, fingers gripping Doc’s hips so hard he was sure it would leave bruises and he pressed tightly against his ass, burying himself as deep as possible. He gave another few more thrusts before coming to a stop and he brushed back his tousled hair. 

“Let me ride you.” Doc guided him back down and straddled him once more. He began to bounce his hips again, concentrated on finding just the right spot where Lion’s cock would brush against his prostate with every rise and fall. Lion stroked his cock as he rode him, beginning to pay more attention to his sensitive head and carefully massaging his balls as he occupied him with a wet kiss. The tip of Doc’s erection oozed with precum, droplets running down his shaft and onto Lion’s fingers.

His eyebrows furrowed as his breathing quickened, the muscles of his thighs straining as he rode him. “I-I’m gonna come,” he choked out. His movements suddenly slowed, his entire body tensing and thighs trembling as he let out a filthy whine, his hips bucking into Lion’s fist. “Fuck!” He gasped, watching how his cock throbbed with every spurt of come that ran down Lion’s stomach like some eccentric art piece. Lion had his head lowered, drunkenly studying the view of their sweaty bodies pressed so tightly together, how he was still inside Doc and the way their chests rose and sunk in sync. 

They took a moment to catch their breaths before Doc got off him and reached towards the tissue box on the nightstand. He took one and wiped his come off Lion’s abs, catching the embarrassed smile that Lion wore on his reddened face. 

Leave the campsite cleaner than you found it, Doc followed that maxim closely and made sure to pick up any tissues he used and throw them in the bin. He spotted the condom packet on the nightstand and noticed it discarded next to a small Bible. A hushed chuckle escaped at the irony of the image, he threw the wrapper away and turned to find Lion watching him. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked, his eyes flickering to admire the view of Doc’s naked body. Doc shook his head and left for a brief moment to retrieve their wine glasses. They slugged it down to moisten their parched mouths. “Are you staying?”

“Mmm,” Doc hummed, indicating yes as he crawled back in bed and laid down close to him, their hot skin coming into contact once more. His finger plucked the small cross resting on Lion’s chest and polished the shiny surface of it. “Was that your first time?”

“With a man, yeah,” Lion admitted and pulled the covers over them. “How’d I do?” 

Doc gave him a cocky shrugged and grinned. “Eh, not bad,” he said then let out a chuckle. “You were fine.” 

 

* * *

 

 

The light streamed into the room just as the sun rose, flooding the room in gold. The first thing Doc noticed as he stirred was the weight of Lion against him, his soft breaths trickling his neck with every exhale. He cracked open his eyes to find the younger man cuddled against him, arms wrapped so tightly Doc realised he couldn’t slip out of bed unnoticed. He remained in his embrace and blinked away the weariness of his eyes.

The clock read eight o’clock, by now he would’ve had breakfast and been sipping away at his morning coffee while scrolling the news app on his phone yet he was still lying in a bed that wasn’t his with a colleague. There was something peaceful about this, a hint of ambience in the air now that all the neighbours were asleep and he could no longer hear any bickering, crying or barking. 

Their legs were tangled, hairs brushing against each other’s and Lion’s arms encircled his midsection, keeping him from shifting too much. He admired the muscles of his arms and the way the morning light rested on his pale skin, and his gaze trailed slowly upwards to study Lion’s face. His bone structure was that of a statue, free of any imperfections and so pleasing to the eye. The usual look of sadness wasn’t there anymore but replaced with a tranquil expression. Doc always thought Lion looked like a lonely person and it was true from what he heard. The only friends Lion had were those from his church who had no idea of his occupation or his history, too add it seemed that Lion hasn’t dated anyone in a while, maybe like Doc he didn’t feel the need to either.

Doc definitely felt the sensation of being out of place here. Unlike his own bedroom the light could freely invade through the windows, he always had thick curtains drawn. Then there was the feeling of someone holding him, sleeping next to him. He’d always kicked out his hookups or went back home after the deed was done. The affection of being so close to someone felt oddly romantic, he realised he may enjoy this.

Closing his eyes once more, Doc let out a soft sigh and forced himself to sleep longer, only to reawaken at ten o’clock. At that point he realised he didn’t have the patience to wait until Lion woke up too so he carefully peeled him off, rolling him into his back.

Confused, Lion barely cracked an eye open and cocooned himself in the blanket. “Are you leaving?” He croaked then let out a monstrous yawn and rubbed at his eyes.

Doc pulled up his jeans and tugged up the zipper. “Yeah, I need to shower and change.” Shirtless, he paced over to the bed and gave Lion a grin. “You look hungover.”

Lion gave a nod in agreement, his tired face lighting up with a smile. “My head hurts so much,” he said. “I didn’t even drink that much.”

“You’re getting old,” Doc told him and picked up the empty wine glasses sitting on the nightstand. He brought them to the kitchen and returned with a generous glass of water. “Drink up, take a painkiller.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Lion chuckled with a hint of sarcasm as he sat up. He took the glass and sipped at it. Despite his hair sticking up in ten different directions and his face contorted in mock agony as he rubbed the back of his neck, he looked handsome as ever. Doc let his gaze linger for a second longer, admiring the red blotches he had left behind up the length of Lion’s neck, in fact, he was smirking at the sight of it. “You sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?”

“No, I should really go,” Doc insisted and glanced down at his phone as it lit up. “Shit… my taxi came early- but thank you, Olivier. I’ll see you later?”

“Alright, see you.”

In a rush Doc snagged his sweatshirt off the floor and slipped it on, made a quick round of the apartment to check he didn’t leave anything behind before making a final goodbye. It wasn’t until he got into the elevator that he realised how long his sleeves were, the smell of a different cologne lingering on the fabric and something felt  _ odd.  _

His eyes met his reflection in the mirror and a sudden awareness rushed to him as he found himself clad in Lion’s burgundy sweater.


	3. "Looks like you could use a hand!" [Blitz/Montagne]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blitz's fantasy becomes reality this Valentines. With the courage of a drunken man he tackles the mountain that is Montagne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 8k words, it just happened to get this large. I don't know what my approach to this chapter was, I kinda attempted a little humour and just went with the flow. Anyhow, I've always pictured Blitz to be a light-hearted, humorous guy who gets a little nervous around his crushes but is also daring as well. Montagne on the other hand I imagined him to be quite romantic and caring. 
> 
> NSFW Chapter as well, just to put that out there.
> 
> I still have another 4-ish oneshots that I wanna write for this series so sit tight. If you want to check out my tumblr, follow me at a-r-k-t-i-c

IQ handed each of the GSG9 men a pink form each and gave them a smile. That instance all three of them knew they wouldn’t be spending this year’s Valentines alone. “I don’t want any excuses, especially from you, Marius,” she said and gave Jäger a wink. “I'll find someone great for each of you, I swear. I’ll even consider special requests…”

Bandit plucked a pen from the counter and began filling in his details. “A certain Russian- er, I mean Uzbek would be great for Marius,” he said with a smirk and earned a stern glare from Jäger who stopped filling out his form. “You sleep talk about him, ‘oh, Shuhrat, I love you! Please kiss-‘“

“Shut up!” Jäger hissed at him, his eyes quickly darting over to the sofas where the Russians were all sprawled out like snoozing cats, occupied with their forms to notice the bickering by the counter where the Germans were. “I don’t even talk in my sleep, you’re talking a load of bullshit...”

The two of them held an intense gaze for several seconds before Bandit fell into fits of laughter and Jäger was pale in terror with the thought of him saying such things. Blitz himself couldn’t help but to smile at their shenanigans as he quickly scribbled in his likes and dislikes. He felt Bandit’s elbow digging into his side and he looked over, still wearing his usual shit-eating grin (as anyone in Rainbow would describe.)

“You got anyone in mind?” Bandit asked and wiggled his brows. “C’mon let me in on the juicy gossip. I seen you eyeing a few boys ‘n girls,” he quickly cleared his throat. “Ahem, Julien… or maybe that new American. What’s his name? Erik?”

Blitz rolled his eyes and tilted his head to the side, giving Bandit a sly look. “I’ve only eyes for you, baby,” he drawled back and puckered his lips, slowly leaning in. Bandit gave him a friendly shove and laughed. “I’m not letting you in on it.”

“Pft, you probably have a laundry list of people you want to fuck. I know for a fact all of GIGN are on it, including the Catholic one. You’ve got the hots for all of them.”

“You’re going to be disappointed, you’re not on my list.”

Bandit clutched his chest and mocked sheer agony. “My heart,” he whispered and faked a pained grimace. “Elias, you broke my heart…”

Blitz folded up his form so he could fit it through the slit in the box. “You better start picking the pieces up, Dom,” he said and cocked a brow. 

Jäger crossed his arms with a little smirk on his face. “Implying Dominic had a heart to break,” he muttered.

“You guys are ridiculous,” IQ said and rolled her eyes, busy holding out the box for everyone to put their forms in. She uttered her thank-yous and flashed her best smile. “It’s like being in a squad with teenage boys.”

“A squad of very competent teenage boys,” Bandit added with a wink.

“Says the guy who got eliminated by a cluster charge,” IQ teased him and giggled. Then she mimicked, “‘I wasn’t even in the blast radius!’”

There was a glint in Bandit’s eyes and he put his hands on his hips. “But I wasn’t! I was like six feet away from it-“ he then quickly switched to English as Smoke sauntered up with his eyes scanning the baked goods on the counter. “Porter, how close was I to the cluster charge?”

Smoke popped the lid off the box of brownies and a gave an unsure smile as he hummed. “Eh, not quite sure, mate. Like two feet?”

“Well it didn’t feel like two feet to me!” Bandit turned back to IQ. 

Jäger sniggered in the background and gave him a gentle pat on the back to soothe his hurt feelings. “You’re lucky it was just training. It will definitely feel like two feet in real life if you’re ever that close to one.”

 

The GSG9 caught breakfast as usual in the mornings, whether if it’s cereal or last night’s leftover pizza. The break room was loud with chatter today and it wasn’t a surprise, the emails regarding Secret Valentines were send out at midnight and everyone was bursting to discuss it with their friends. Blitz too had stayed up until midnight to peek at who he got, the curiosity was itching at him. 

It didn’t take long for Jäger to say who he was paired with, it was obvious from his permanent smile and the way he became so coy when Bandit egged him on to spill the beans. Flustered, he spat out, “it’s Shuhrat, quit bugging me about it,” and proceeded to huff quietly: “You saw it from a mile away.”

“But it’s much more fun when you say it,” Bandit said and gave him a wink. His catlike eyes flicked over to Blitz who was picking away at a hearty portion of eggs and bacon. “Well, Elias... whose pillows are you biting this Valentine’s?”

“Gilles’,” Blitz said in a nonchalant tone and struggled to maintain his composed expression when he saw the mixture of shock and disbelief on Bandit’s face. “Let’s just say… I’m not complaining.”

Bandit glanced over at IQ and laughed. “You’ll be complaining the next day,” he assured him and slugged down the last of his coffee. “He’s built like a stallion- and has one the size of a stallion’s.” 

A piece of egg lodged in his throat when he sharply inhaled, Blitz broke into a fit of giggles, coughing and wheezing for air. The commotion brought attention to their table, curious eyes darting to see why Jäger was smacking Blitz’s back to dislodge the egg and IQ on the side, dying from both secondhand embarrassment and laughter. She was right about the squad being like teenagers, they all had similar humour too. 

They managed to finish up breakfast without choking. After a moment of resting, Bandit proposed they talk more about it at the gym.

Maintaining fitness was imperative at Rainbow, though oftentimes the GSG9 got up to using the facilities for their unorthodox horseplay. Blitz recalled charging at Jäger, both of them hugging yoga balls to their chests, the sight of Jäger launching twelve feet back with an unmanly scream then the sense of dread settling in all of them when they saw Jäger rolling on the floor, clutching his ankle. Needless to say, Doc wasn’t at all impressed and suggested they wear protective equipment next time they try any of their shenanigans, even offered to order some helmets and elbow pads in advanced.

Today, they settled for something less exciting and stuck to the usual gossiping, the needlessly sexual jokes. Bandit jogged lightly to catch up to Blitz and gave him a nudge. “We ought to borrow a wheelchair for Elias,” he suggested to everyone else with his stupid grin. “Once Gilles is done with you, I’m afraid you’ll never walk again.” 

Blushing was an involuntary action that Blitz always wished he could control. The second he felt the flash of heat across his cheeks he knew he was stoplight red and even his ears would go pink too. “Well who says he’s the one  _ doing _ me?” He asked. 

“Don’t think I don’t know you,” Bandit told him. “I know you more than your mother does.”

Blitz could only raise his brows in surprise, it was partially correct. 

Although Bandit darted away from the topic in an instant when his attention snapped over to something else. A sly smirk spread across his face and he looked down at Jäger who was doing his stretches. “Oi, there’s your boyfriend,” he pointed out and looked over at the Russians who were sat upon the benches by the weights. They were also staring back. Bandit gave them a big wave. “Good morning!” He shouted across the gym.

Tachanka was the only one to wave back. “Morning,” came the Russian’s slightly less enthusiastic greeting.

Jäger quickly got on the treadmill to face away from the Russians. “He’s not- god, Dom…” He shook his head in disapproval and prodded at the buttons on the treadmill to get him into a light jog. “One day that big mouth of yours will send you into an early retirement.”

Blitz gave a hearty chuckle and boarded the treadmill next to Jäger’s. “I’ll bet you on that.”

 

It was a massive understatement to say Montagne was a busy man. In fact, outside of training and the gym, Blitz realised he rarely saw the man around base. He spent most of his waking hours barking at brain dead recruits, the other hours he was lifting in the gym with Lion, the two of them discussing about last night’s episode of some French show. 

Blitz always drifted in the background, somewhat lost. He spotted him in the gym that morning, but his conversation with Lion was already flowing and it seemed too awkward to approach him with Lion standing to the side witnessing all of it- so Blitz decided the matter of Valentines was best left for later. 

They were placed in the same team the next day when training. Blitz found his eyes meeting Montagne’s numerous times, it was clear the both of them were thinking about  _ it _ yet now wasn’t the time to bring it up. Montagne was busy pushing the objective, his shield extended to protect Glaz. He made several call-outs of the exact location of the defending team. Blitz found himself sprinting in through the side door of the objective, catching the occupied defenders off guard. He flashed Bandit and eliminated him with a shield bash that knocked him to the ground, then continued his rampage onto Mute who looked ready to surrender. The second flash had Mute yelling, disorientated as he fired in every direction and stumbled backwards. 

Glaz got caught in the fire and was subsequently eliminated, leaving only Blitz and Montagne. 

“Opfor, last operator standing,” the announcer’s voice spoke into their communications. “Securing objective… objected contested.”

Montagne spun around and his shield gave a thunk as he extended it. “Get behind me,” he ordered. Blitz was glad he listened, an impact grenade slammed into Montagne’s shield, most of the blast being absorbed. The last operator was Smoke, known for his crazy antics during training. He dropped down a hatch with his shotgun and the two of them felt dread settling in their bodies. Despite being tiny in comparison to the two of them, Smoke always put up a good fight. 

Blitz tried to flash him but he quickly lobbed a gas canister, detonated it and ran for cover. The gas canisters used in training weren’t lethal, but Smoke had slipped something in them that made the air smell like raw sewage. Blitz stifled a gag as he loaded his magazine into the wooden pallet that Smoke cowered behind. An impact grenade volleyed over his shield, missing by mere inches and it destroyed the drywall behind him. 

Another canister detonated in front of him, he fell back and gasped in fresh air as Montagne continued to contest the objective. Smoke bashed Montagne’s shield with his shotgun, barely even making him flinch.

“C’mon, you big bastard!” Smoke growled and tried to parry to his side in hopes he could get a few shots in with his pistol. Montagne remained with his shield extended in the corner of the room, an immovable object. He was barely able to rotate in time to counter Smoke strafing around his shield. When the gas dispersed, Smoke raised his shotgun once more and turned to brace for Blitz’s impact. He fired all his shells blindly, unable to see. 

Montagne retracted his shield. With a piercing bang he fired his revolver, eliminating Smoke. When the announcer told him the round ended with their victory he put his shield on his back and helped Smoke to his feet.

“That was fookin’ brilliant,” Smoke gave a hearty laugh and pulled off his mask to reveal a toothy grin. “You really know how to make a man shit himself, Elias. And you too, Gilles, good play.”

Blitz pulled off his helmet and lowered his balaclava to let the cool air brush against his reddened cheeks. He looked over at Montagne to find him staring back and the two of them exchanged their small smiles. As they walked back to base for a shower, Montagne nudged him gently.

“You were on fire,” Montagne praised him with a small chuckle. Their shoulders bumped as they stumbled down the long corridor. “We make a good team.”

Blitz gave a humble shrug and looked over at him. “Thanks, Gilles. You’re a good shot with that revolver, last time I checked, it kicked like a horse. You make it look easy.”

They stepped into the steamy locker rooms. Montagne rested his helmet on one of the benches in front of his large locker. “If you’d like, I can help you out in the shooting range. I think you’d be unstoppable if you could control the recoil,” he said and gently patted Blitz’s shoulder. “Just send me an email or something and we can organise it, yeah?”

The thought of Montagne standing behind him, his hands over Blitz’s as he gently guided him and murmured into his ear had the butterflies in Blitz’ stomach whirling with glee. He imagined how warm his hands would be, clasped firmly over and then the way his muscular arms would brush against his body, maybe his back would touch against Montagne’s chest. Blitz quickly snapped out of his fantasies and gave an enthusiastic nod. “Y-Yeah, I’ll definitely take you up on that,” he said. “See you around?”

“Yeah. See you.”

And that was another opportunity down the drain. Only when Blitz was transversing the large locker room to his own locker did he remember he completely forgot to ask about Valentines.  _ Stupid,  _ he thought to himself and began to open his locker. He felt a presence next to him and glanced over to see Bandit, soaking wet with a towel around his waist. There was a splotchy bruise on his cheek, beginning to darken.

“I’ll kiss it better later,” Blitz cooed and returned to digging through his locker, finding himself smirking. “What are you staring at?”

“You’re all red. Suppose you been talking to Gilles again?” Bandit questioned and his sleazy gaze flickered across the locker room. “Christ almighty, I must say I’m jealous of you. His ass looks fantastic.”

“Don’t be a creep.” Blitz elbowed him to remind him it’s not good locker room etiquette to stare, especially at one’s ass. “We haven’t talked about  _ it _ yet but I’ll get around to it. Eventually. What about you? Who has the pleasure of dealing with you this Valentine’s?”

Bandit gave a devilish grin. “Well I’ve got Maxim, but I haven’t seen him at all on base. Can’t tell if he’s avoiding me or if he likes to work from home.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s hiding.”

“Wow, asshole.”

 

Time flew by faster than expected. Blitz swore literally yesterday was Christmas yet he woke up on the thirteenth realising tomorrow would be Valentine’s. He wandered into the gym, only to find it empty. Only Thatcher was barking at the recruits this morning, yelling at them to keep up the pace with their daily jog. Where on Earth was Montagne? 

Blitz took the floor up to where the French CTU’s often worked on their paperwork. He ambled in and wasn’t surprised to find Montagne’s desk empty, it usually was. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he approached Lion who was occupied, watching footage from a bodycam. Careful, he gently patted his shoulder and offered him a friendly smile.

Lion took out his earbuds and looked up at him, his brow cocked in curiosity. “Morning, Elias,” he said, the corners of his lips twisting upwards. Blitz’s eyes flickered down to his Cupid’s bow, noticing how light glinted off the stubble on his upper lip. “Can I help you?”

_ These French men,  _ Blitz thought to himself.  _ And their stupid, handsome faces.  _ He gave a nod and looked around once more. “Have you seen Gilles? I’m looking for him- well, I’ve been looking for him for quite some time now…” he trailed off and looked helplessly at Lion.

Lion’s eyes moved to the door. He gave a nod in the direction he looked at. “Speak of the devil. There he is,” then he glanced down at his watch. “Three hours late for work. My, my, Gilles.”

Montagne approached them with a tired smile. “Good morning. Let’s just say I slept in. It’s my age, you see, my ears are getting bad. I can’t hear the alarm,” he joked and looked over at Blitz. “Mike says you’re looking for me.”

Rook seemed to awaken out of his trance after his morning coffee. His ears perked up and he grinned at them. “Oh, he has been looking for you, Gilles. Running around everywhere like a lost puppy.”

There it was. The flash of heat all over his body, Blitz managed to give an embarrassed smile and already knew he was rosy at the cheeks. He followed Montagne back to his desk and stuffed his sweaty hands into his jean pockets as he watched Montagne bustle around cluelessly, trying to organise the stacks of papers and files on his desk. 

He sighed and motioned at the mess. “I’ve been extremely busy lately, as you can see,” he said then put his hands on the hips. “It’s always like this at the start of the year. Y’know with all the new recruits… anyways, enough of my complaining. What’s up?”

“About tomorrow. I was just wondering if you remembered,” Blitz began and his fingers fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket. He had no idea what to do with his hands, suddenly forgot how to stand normally, all he knew was the sight of Montagne easily had him melting. “I-I mean, if you’re really busy I understand… I don’t wanna get in your way-“

Montagne’s face lit up with a surprised smile. “Elias! I almost forgot,” he exclaimed then clasped his hand onto Blitz’s shoulder. “Y’know, I could really do with a drink… or ten. What do you say? We could catch a few drinks after work tomorrow.” 

And then perhaps they would book a hotel room, or go back to each other’s apartment, strip naked and fuck like rabbits until sunrise. The thought had Blitz gulping, getting even sweatier and his gaze veered dangerously down to look at Montagne’s lips, then at his hand which was still gripping his shoulder. Montagne let go and raised a brow. “Yeah. That’d be great,” he choked out and mustered his best smile.  _ Time to abort mission,  _ he thought to himself and began mapping out the quickest route to the elevator. “I-I’ll catch you later.”

Eyes followed him as he skittered away from Montagne’s desk like a frightened kitten ducking for cover. He caught Lion staring at him with amusement, then Twitch and Rook giggling whilst they eyed him from across the office.  _ French people and their beautiful, gorgeous, immaculate faces.  _ Blitz mashed his finger against the button to call the elevator and heaved in a deep breath. 

The elevator took its time. Perhaps a good thirty seconds before it arrived. Mortified, Blitz squeezed inside the full elevator and prodded the button to close the doors. He didn’t have a destination in mind, he just wanted to get out. 

There was a short pause across the entire office. Then slowly, Lion put in one earbud and returned to watching the bodycam footage, leaving his other ear free to listen to whatever would be said next. Rook propped his head up on his hand and sighed wistfully.

“He’s cute,” Rook said loud enough for Montagne to hear. “I wish I had boys blushing at me.”

 

Squeezed in between the SAS, and a seedy-eyed Bandit, Blitz found himself in another tough situation. In the mirrored walls he watched curiously as Mute and Smoke muttered about something. It was a regular occurance to see Smoke’s arms wrapped possessively around Mute’s waist, their faces close together and eyes locked in a loving gaze that made Blitz feel incredibly lonely. It felt strange to watch. Blitz looked away and felt Bandit nudging him. 

“What’s the verdict?” He asked quietly in German, a giddy smile on his face. 

“We’re going for drinks,” Blitz responded and bit his lip. “I honestly think I’m going to die tomorrow.”

Bandit gave a snort and held back his laughter. “If you ask me, it’s a good way to go,” he said then hummed, finding glee in how Blitz rolled his eyes. “I’m just kidding. Don’t worry about it too much. You’ll be back to your usual self after a couple cocktails and shots.” 

It didn’t reassure him whatsoever, but Blitz was not the type to chicken out completely when presented with an opportunity- even if it frightened him. “Fuck it, I’ll just go with the flow and see where it leads.”

“Hopefully to his bed, yes?”

 

* * *

  
  


It came as a surprise when they got into the taxi and Montagne had told the driver to bring them to a gay club in the city. At first, the idea of drinks had Blitz under the assumption they would be going on a pub crawl and getting pissed off English lagers and beers. Instead of that, they would be getting drunk off sweet cocktails with the heavy thump of electronic music vibrating through their bodies. The club was crawling with all kinds of people this evening and the air was sticky with the scent of musky cologne and the sheer heat of so many bodies packed together. 

They managed to push through and find their way to the bar. Montagne bought the both of them a drink to ease them in, a fruity cosmopolitan. This wasn’t the perfect environment to sit down and chat. For a while they sipped at their drinks, eyes searching across the club for any attractive faces. With the both of them being attractive, muscular men (especially Montagne, he was a beast of a man and Blitz couldn’t wait to be smothered underneath him) it didn’t take long for patrons of the club to approach them and offer to buy a drink. Blitz found himself blinking back at a rather attractive British lad who had sidled up to him. 

“What’s your name?”

For a second his mind went blank until Montagne has nudged him gently to bring his attention back. He looked over at him, then back at the stranger and his lips twitched into a flirtatious smile. “Elias. What about you?”

And like that Blitz found himself getting steadily drunk, whether through his own means or a stranger buying him a drink. He lost himself in the thick of the dance floor, his hips grinding with someone else, lips locked in a wet kiss with a gorgeous looking boy. It was the thrill of being wooed, or the adrenaline of approaching someone else that reminded him why he used to enjoy going to clubs. Though in the end he only had one goal, and that was Montagne.

Head spinning as if he had been stunned by a Yokai, Blitz found his way back to the bar and slugged down a few more shots at the invitation of Montagne who had drifted away from a youthful looking man who was trying to chat him up.

The music changed, Blitz took Montagne’s hand without hesitation and the crowd of the dance floor had engulfed them once more. They kept their hands firmly planted on each other as not to lose one another, the both of them wondering if the hand groping their body belonged to the other or someone else. Either way, it didn’t stop them. Blitz, completely immersed in the song, closed his eyes and allowed their foreheads to meet. Their cheeks brushed, he could feel Montagne smiling against him as they moved to the beat, trying to enjoy themselves while they were still able to walk on both legs. 

He opened his eyes when he felt Montagne’s hand sliding to the back of his neck, bringing him close enough for their bodies to meet. Tilting his head to the side, he leaned in to meet his lips, tasting the tang of liquor on his tongue. With age came experience, the way Montagne kissed had Blitz nearly falling apart in his arms, the feeling of his tongue gently pushing in, how he adapted himself to the ebb and flow. Eventually Montagne pulled away and took him by the wrist then guided him towards the exit. 

A sobering gust of cool air blasted them as they weaseled out the club. Blitz caught up to him and took him by the jacket, pinned him against a brick wall and kissed him once more, addicted to his lips. Montagne reciprocated and groaned softly, his warm hands sneaking up the hem of Blitz’s t-shirt to feel his firm abs. There was a distant hollering, reminding them they were still in a public area. Blitz pulled away and looked down the street, chuckling under his breath. 

“Let’s go back to my place,” Montagne proposed and took his hand. They walked down a few streets before managing to hail a taxi.

The entire car ride, though a brief eight minute journey, was a tough challenge of Blitz trying his best to keep his hands to himself, for the best interests of everyone including the taxi driver. 

When they arrived, the stark white apartment blocks that towered over them indicated this area wasn’t cheap to live in. The windows were large, many covered by dark curtains and some allowing light to peek out. The hidden exhibitionist inside Blitz wondered how hot it would be to have his body pressed up against the icy glass, his breath misting up the window as Montagne fucked him hard from behind. He imagined the sight of his cum dripping down the glass in the aftermath and felt himself gulping.

The receptionist at the lobby greeted him, they clearly knew each other and she paid Blitz no attention, allowing the two of them to slip by without question. They called an elevator and it promptly came, doors sliding open with a satisfying ding. Montagne thumbed the button for the twentieth floor then turned to Blitz and gazed at him longingly, biting his lip a little that made Blitz want to drop to his knees.

Instead Blitz put his hands behind his back, gripping the cool bar of the elevator wall and he shot him an enticing smirk, presenting his clothed body to him like an offering. After a few seconds Montagne couldn’t take it, he lost the game of patience and captured Blitz’s lips in a heated kiss, ensuring he was pinned against the wall just as he wanted. It came as no surprise when Montagne felt him through his jeans and found he was already half-hard. 

The elevator doors opened. Separated, though only for a moment, Montagne led him to his door and fumbled in his pocket for the keys. He struggled and Blitz was needy, too needy. He shoved Montagne against his door and latched his lips against the smooth stretch of skin on his neck, his hands exploding greedily and squeezing hard muscles. Montagne brought his attention back to him, still groping him through his jeans, paying particular attention to Blitz’ glutes that were so firm and shapely. 

He managed to pull away and put both hands on his shoulders before Blitz tried to dive in again. “Feisty,” he murmured and tutted his tongue. “Let’s get inside first, I don’t want the security guy jacking off to us.”

“That’d be hot, don’t you think?” Blitz laughed. A lavish apartment greeted him, beautifully decorated like a set of a Hollywood movie. It was hard to think a single man lived in such a large apartment by himself though through further inspection there was a tiny scratch post next to the sofa, a plush dog bed by the television where an obese looking cat was snoozing. “You’ve got roommates.”

Montagne chuckled softly and pointed down the hall as a soft clattering grew louder, the sound of claws clicking against floorboards. A tiny Yorkshire terrier came sprinting towards them, chasing its tail in absolute excitement and Blitz sympathised, if he had the chance to live with such a handsome man he’d come bolting to greet him at the door everyday. The dog sniffed curiously at his feet then spun around in more circles before rolling onto its belly.

“Her name is Belle. She loves everyone, as you can tell.” 

Blitz cooed softly and rubbed her belly. “Good dog. Most Yorkshire terriers yap at anyone they see,” he said then brought his gaze to the rest of the apartment. “Your place is gorgeous.” 

“You can spend the night if you’d like. I enjoy company,” Montagne said and gave him a wink. He took a couple steps towards the kitchen and rummaged through a cupboard. “I’ll give her a treat so she won’t bother us. Also, a treat for ourselves as well.” He revealed an expensive looking bottle of wine and filled two wine glasses with a generous amount. Belle took her rawhide treat and dashed off. 

Blitz accepted his glass of wine and laughed to himself. “You French people sure do love your wine,” he commented and sipped. “This is amazing though.”

“I share the good stuff with my friends,” Montagne said with a smile and led him back to the living area. “Regular hook ups just get cheap grocery store wine.”

“Wow, I’m honoured.” Blitz felt the fuzzy feeling of inebriation creeping up on him again, the familiar warmth and lightheadedness, the lack of inhibitions that had him setting his glass down and straddling Montagne’s lap when he settled down on the sofa. Their foreheads met, bumping gently and Montagne gave him a flirtatious smile, almost teasingly. “Let’s carry on where we left off, hm?”

Montagne didn’t have to reply. He accepted him into his lap and put his strong arms around him, running his palms over his body as they made out. Blitz’s skin was hot against his hand, his muscles sculpted and firm as he squeezed them. He hiked up his t-shirt and coaxed it off, discarding it on the arm of the sofa before leaning in to greedily kiss all the exposed skin. Blitz gave a soft groan when Montagne pressed his lips against his nipple, sucking it gently before moving on to leave more reddened splotches against his skin. 

With ease Montagne had shifted him into a lying position on the sofa and anchored himself between his legs. He licked a wet strip down Blitz’s stomach, following the defined path of his abdomen down to his navel. His hands stripped the belt off without difficulty and he popped open the button fly. Biting his lip in anticipation, Blitz watched him desperately, his hands behind his head as he breathed heavily, waiting.

Montagne nuzzled his face against his clothed bulge and inhaled deeply, fingers gripping the waistband of his light wash jeans tightly then peeling them off in one go to reveal slender yet muscular legs. Blitz always took pride in his physique, especially his legs. 

“Beautiful,” Montagne murmured and pressed his lips to Blitz’s inner thigh, his hands running up and down the blond fuzz that covered his legs. He sucked another hickey on his thigh and smiled up at him, enjoying how Blitz rolled his hips against the sofa, desperate to feel something. “Impatient?”

“I’m getting a bad case of blue balls because you’re so fucking hot, Gilles,” Blitz admitted and chuckled. “Forgive me for being so forward but I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a long time.”

Montagne began to caress him through his jockstrap. “I won’t lie, I’ve fantasised about that ass of yours more than once,” he said and groped it. “It’s ten times better than what I expected.”

The squats certainly paid off. Blitz let his eyes fall shut as Montagne jacked him off through the cloth of his underwear, his finger teasing the sensitive tip before moving down to play with his balls, repeating the torturous process until there was a sizeable patch of wet precum on the fabric. Until then did Montagne slip his hand under the waistband. He let it ping against Blitz’s skin before fully taking it off, finding amusement in how Blitz jolted. 

_ He probably likes spanking,  _ Blitz thought to himself and shifted comfortably on the lush sofa. He opened his mouth willingly when Montagne wiped his finger against his wet tip, sweeping up the precum that gathered then he brought his finger to Blitz mouth, a crude smile growing on his face when Blitz sucked and licked it clean. 

Teasing some more, Montagne ran his hands over everywhere but his cock, gently massaging his inner thighs to his lower belly, though never reaching between his legs. His watchful gaze was focused on Blitz’s face, just waiting and waiting for a hint of frustration though it seemed Blitz wasn’t going to lose that game from his controlled and steady breathing. Defeated, Montagne began to fondle his balls and admired the softness of his skin. He stroked him a few times before leaning down to envelope his lips around the swollen tip, tasting the dribbling precum. His eyes glanced up at him and met the sight of Blitz’s furrowed brows, his lips parted into a silent gasp.

“You taste as good as you look,” Montagne told him, making him chuckle. He didn’t waste anymore time and began to lick wet stripes along the length of his erection, trying to pay attention to the shaft as one hand thumbed his sensitive head. It wasn’t hard to make Blitz into a moaning mess under him. Montagne took him all in until his cock hit the back of his throat and he breathed in steadily through his nose as he kept himself there.

“O-oh, shit,” Blitz gasped out shakily and his hand immediately shot down to Montagne’s head, fingers tangled in his short cropped hair, and he pushed him down, desperate to feel more. He rolled his hips into the wet heat around him and found himself getting harder at the sounds of Montagne choking around him. Although he gave mercy and allowed him to come back up for air. “Sorry,” he murmured softly and loosened his grip to caress Montagne’s hair. 

Montagne only flashed him a playful smile as he wiped the spit off his chin. “Don’t come too fast, I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his voice gravelly. His fingers curled around him once more and he took him into his mouth again, tongue lapping greedily at the underside of his shaft then when he bobbed his head back up, he focused on the head of his cock, tracing the slit and adoring how Blitz tensed up every time. When Blitz got close, Montagne pulled away and licked his balls, sucked on them with a light pressure that kept him at the brink of falling apart but not giving him the extra ounce of pleasure he needed. 

Blitz eventually grabbed at Montagne’s shirt and coaxed him back up for a kiss. “Please fuck me,” he begged in his thick German accent, the words spilling out in wanton as he palmed either side of Montagne’s face and looked him in his eyes. “Gilles, please.”

With ease, Montagne wrapped his arms around him and picked him off the sofa. He maneuvered carefully into his bedroom and set Blitz down onto the silk covers, pressing him into them as he kissed down his neck. Blitz sat up and began to pull at his belt, loosening it so he could slip his hands down his jeans to feel his bulge. Montagne was girthy everywhere, no denying that. It was like a dream come true, paradise on Earth. Blitz stroked his cock as he kissed his muscles, almost worshipping his body. He loved every curve, the hardness of his body and his natural scent was so alluring. 

Montagne dropped his jeans to his ankles and kicked them aside. “You’re eager,” he said with a smirk when Blitz positioned himself with his head at the edge of the bed, ready to take him into his mouth. “You want this cock?”

Watering at the mouth, Blitz shot him a cheeky grin. “You know it,” he murmured and brought a hand to Montagne’s thigh to bring him closer. His lips suckled at the tip, tongue tracing the foreskin of his uncut cock. Montagne let out a groan, his thighs tensing and he leaned forward to run his palm over Blitz’s chest, rubbing his nipples and squeezing his defined pectorals. He guided his cock deeper, though slowly to allow Blitz’s throat to relax around him. 

He began to fuck his face, all kinds of wet and obscene noises echoing through the bedroom as he thrusted lazily. His hand moved down, fingers tracing over the veins that were bulging over his reddened skin, feeling the rapid pulse beneath. He pulled out slowly to allow Blitz to catch his breath and smiled at the sight of his flush face, lips swollen and moist. 

Blitz sat up and pulled Montagne down onto the bed, pushing him into a lying position and he settled between his legs. “I fucking love your cock,” he murmured as he stroked it, mesmerised by the way it stood tall and proud, glistening with spit and the veins that ran down the shaft, foreskin pulled back exposing the wonderfully-shaped head that Blitz loved to wrap his lips around. His lips moved south, tongue lapping up Montagne’s balls as he jerked him with a firm grip. 

Montagne groaned under his breath and spread his legs a little wider, eyes falling shut in relaxation as Blitz serviced him. His hand moved to nestle in Blitz’s sprawl of dirty-blond hair, snagging the soft locks although not too aggressively. When he looked back down he met Blitz’s deep blue eyes looking back up, lips around his cock at the hilt and it was a memorable sight. Blitz took his cock like a champion, despite his aching jaw and sore throat, the tears that slipped from his eyes, he kept sucking until Montagne had whispered for him to stop.

They kissed, tongue against tongue, hands roaming limitlessly and Blitz gave a soft moan of approval when he felt Montagne’s hand ghosting over the cleft of his ass, teasing him. “Please,” he gasped out. 

Montagne gave a hum in response and reached towards his bedside table. In the drawer he pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom. “Patience,” he commanded in his soothing voice, his palm rubbing circles onto Blitz’s ass cheek. He gave him a small tap, directing him to shimmy forward but remain on his hands and knees. “I know you’re needy but I really do recommend a little preparation.”

Blitz laughed and looked back at him. “With a cock like that, definitely,” he said and spread his knees a little more, backed up his ass against Montagne’s lubricated finger. He closed his eyes and relaxed, his cheek pressed against the silk duvet, breathing in the scent of freshly changed covers. A second finger, this time searching and massaging areas Blitz didn’t even expect to feel so good. His moans grew louder, his fingers clutching the bed covers as Montagne worked him into a squirming mess with his fingers alone. 

There was a wetter feeling against his entrance, a kind that made him gasp. He felt the scratch of Montagne’s stubble against his skin, brushing the delicate skin of his taint. His tongue probed gently at the tight ring of muscle, stimulating every sensitive nerve as he breached. The feeling of his tongue entering had him crying out in desperation, wishing his release would come soon. Blitz was aching at this point, drunk off pleasure and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly as Montagne licked a long line from his balls, up his taint to his hole and teased him mercilessly.

“Ready?” He asked, leaning forward to press a kiss onto his forehead. “You’re so gorgeous like this.”

“This is torture,” Blitz murmured with a giggle, a tired grin across his face. “C’mon, give it to me.”

“If you say so.”

Blitz braced himself and tried his best to relax as Montagne pushed in, stopping to give him time to adjust. He ran his hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him as he whimpered, gasping softly from the sheer size of his cock. Even Blitz himself was surprised he could take all of him in, when he first laid eyes upon Montagne he thought there was no possible chance, although the human body was wonderful in many ways. 

After several moments Montagne began to thrust, only sliding out a little before pressing himself back in, burying himself deep. Blitz keened, his knuckles flashing white. 

“Are you okay?” Montagne asked, his voice softer and he put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. He pulled out and guided Blitz onto his back, pushed his knees to his chest then slipped a pillow under his hips. “Tell me if it hurts, hm?” 

He thrusted in slowly once more though this time Blitz felt himself yielding, his body stopped trying to resist. With how thick Montagne was, he filled him up easily, his cock able to brush all the right places with every buck of his hips. The feeling of him pulling out all the way and slamming back in had Blitz overwhelmed, fingernails digging into his back and he clung on for  _ dear life  _ as the bed shook and the headboard banged against the wall. His eyes rolled back, all he could focus on was the heavy weight of Montange’s body against him, his ticklish breath against his neck as his balls smacked against Blitz’s ass. 

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, hands threading into hair and gentle caresses against skin. He adored the way Montagne’s rough cheek scratched his own and how his strong jaw seemed to fit perfectly in his palm. He drank in the sight of his handsome face, the perfect bone structure and light wrinkles that echoed his maturity. There was a good decade between them but that didn’t stop Blitz’s attraction. For his age, Montagne looked amazing from his face which still had elements of youth to his muscular body. His power and strength had Blitz turned on the most. He found it hot how Montagne could pluck him up with ease, the way he could bend him in half and make him so pliant, so malleable within his hands. The manhandling was something he had always fantasised about.

Montagne shifted their position so Blitz could ride him. He relaxed and allowed his hands to run up and down Blitz’s toned thighs as he rode him, biting his lip at the sight of Blitz’s dribbling cock bouncing with every rise and fall. Blitz stroked himself, his fingers spreading the wet precum down his shaft and briefly running over the tip but he was so sensitive that he was afraid he’d come too early. 

Desperate for more, Montagne began to thrust his hips upwards into him, meeting him as he lowered himself. Head thrown back in pleasure, Blitz cried out with every exhale, his voice strained as he tried his best to keep the pace. “H-harder,” he whimpered, thighs beginning to tremble. “Please, Gilles, I’m so close- oh fuck, please, please,  _ please _ -“

Montagne complied and delivered more force into his thrusts, making sure he hit the right spot in Blitz that made him writhe with pleasure. Suddenly tensed, Blitz let out a deep moan and came hard, his fingers completely dripping with the cum that spurred and oozed out of his cock. His ejaculation splattered over Montagne’s broad chest, running down his defined muscles. 

Spent and worn, Blitz sank down once more and sighed contentedly, trying to catch his breath. Once more Montagne had wiped off the cum on his chest with his fingers and smirked as he shoved them into Blitz’s mouth. With no objection Blitz sucked his fingers clean, tasting himself as if it was a treat. Shakily he lifted himself off Montagne’s cock and maneuvered onto his back, holding his knees to his chest once more. 

Montagne traced his hole a few times, eyes drawn to how it puckered in such an enticing way. He sank into the addictive heat and groaned at the snug tightness around him. At first his hips moved slow, thrusts drawn out and gentle as if he was working him open again. He leaned forward and kissed Blitz, growling as he did so and he grabbed at him, fingernails digging into the skin at his hips to anchor him down as his thrusts became brutal, slamming into him with a force that only indicated he was close. His weight was completely exerted upon Blitz, pinning him down in a possessive way and he grasped Blitz’s shoulders to stop him from shifting upwards on the bed with every rut of his hips. 

Within the confines of his thick, rugged arms, Blitz could do nothing else but to moan, all his muscles twitching from exhaustion and his head felt foggy from stimulation. Their foreheads bumped as Montagne rammed in, delivering his last thrust with a thunderous roar. As he stilled Blitz could feel his cock pulsating inside of him, pumping out streaks of hot cum into the condom. 

Their heads parted and Montagne came down from the high of his orgasm, laughing breathlessly as he sat back. “ _ Mon dieu, _ ” he gasped and slipped out of Blitz. He took off the condom and wiped himself clean, then passed Blitz a spare towel. “Did you enjoy that?”

Barely having the energy to do so, Blitz dried himself and crawled to his side of the bed. He let out a soft hum as Montagne pulled him into his embrace. “A dream come true.” He chuckled and rested his head on Montagne’s hairy chest. “Good night, Gilles.”

“Night, Elias.” Montagne kissed his forehead and reached over to turn off the bedside lamp.

* * *

 

Everyone was somewhat late to work on the fifteenth, many of them too hungover to even raise their heads off their desk. IQ went partying with some of the girls, had too many drinks and arrived in looking pale as a ghost, not a single bit of makeup applied though Bandit charmed her saying she looked great either way, sober or hungover, makeup or bare faced. Jäger was hidden away in the workshop once again, though tinkering with his magpie wearing a contented smile. 

That morning Blitz woke up still hugging against Montagne’s chest and he heard a quiet whining, the feeling of tiny feet prodding his chest and he opened his eyes to find Belle sniffing at his face, stomping all over his chest in a huff. There was something warm near his head and he looked up to find a cat snoozing on the pillow. It was confusing at first until he remembered he wasn’t at home but at Montagne’s apartment.

Stirring in his sleep, Montagne murmured something in French. After a few seconds Blitz heard him chuckle. “Wow, everyone’s wanting a cuddle this morning,” he murmured, his voice gravelly. “Belle’s jealous, you’re in her spot.”

Blitz petted her and coaxed her to settle down between him and Montagne. “I’m jealous of her,” he joked then glanced at the clock which read eleven o’clock. “We’ve slept in.”

Montagne was a hospitable man. He prepared breakfast while Blitz caught a quick shower and gifted him an old hoodie to wear to work so he wouldn’t have to wear the clothes from last night. It was oversized yet Blitz loved it, the way the sleeves dangled from his hands and how it smelt just like Montagne- a souvenir to remember such a pleasurable night. Over scrambled eggs and bacon, they slugged down a glass of water with aspirin to relieve their pounding headaches. 

By twelve they left the apartment and Montagne drove them to headquarters. They took the elevator up but parted at their respective floors, exchanging a pleasant goodbye before the elevator doors had shut. At one point Blitz  _ swore  _ Montagne had winked at him.

He strolled into the office unable to avoid Bandit’s trailing gaze. Yet he didn’t try to pretend he never saw Bandit’s eyes flicking towards him when he entered, he sat down on his chair and smiled smugly over at him, waiting for him to say something. Bandit pressed his lips together into a curious smile, eyes narrowing as his gaze moved down to the faded print on the hoodie that faintly said  _ ‘GIGN’  _ and then he cocked a brow, seeming impressed.

“You’re alive. And walking,” Bandit noted with a smirk. “And you look like you’ve discovered the meaning and purpose of life. Is his dick that good?”

“It’s the eighth wonder of the world.”


	4. "Done and done." [Smoke/Mute]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smoke and Mute finally tie the knot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat shorter than the other chapters. No smut in this one but mildly NSFW to begin with.

“Babe.”

“Mmm… five minutes.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past half-hour.”

Mute wriggled comfortably under the weight of Smoke straddling his body and nuzzled his face into his pillow. He let out a discontented whine as Smoke peeled off the covers, allowing the cool air to brush against his bare torso. The heaters were blasting full yet he still felt chilly without the heavy duvet cocooned around him. His body tensed as Smoke’s cold hands made first contact at his cheek, squishing them in a playful manner before they moved lower, caressing his neck. He opened his eyes when he felt Smoke press a small kiss onto his pectoral, then peppered some more down his stomach, nipping at the skin to make him jolt. He stopped just as he reached the bottom of his navel, placing one last kiss onto his happy trail then he chuckled when Mute looked up groggily at him with an expectant expression.

“You’re awake now,” Smoke murmured and his hands toyed with the waistband of his sweatpants, playing with the little rope. Then he began to massage him between his legs, grinning devilishly when Mute gasped and his hands clenched around his pillow. “D’you know what day it is, Mark?”

Growing restless, Mute glanced over at the clock then found a smile growing on his face. He gave a hum in affirmation and closed his eyes in relaxation as Smoke began to get to work. It didn’t take long for him to make a mess in his underwear, finally giving him a reason to get out of bed and hop in the shower. Smoke looked triumphant and smirked smugly when Mute crawled out of bed.

“Happy Valentines, baby,” he said.

“Aye, you too,” Mute mumbled back and leaned in to peck his stubbly cheek. He found himself snared within Smoke’s arms, unable to free himself until he gave him what he wanted. It was embarrassing for him to say it, he wasn’t accustomed to being so affectionate but he was willing to do it for the sake of Smoke’s happiness. “A very happy Valentines to the love of my life, James fookin’ Porter. How’s that?”

“Love ya, smartass.” Smoke smothered him in a million more kisses before he managed to wrestle free from the cage of his muscular arms and find safety in the bathroom. “Don’t spend too long in the shower, I’m making us breakfast!”

One thing Mute never expected when he first met Smoke was that Smoke turned out to be incredibly affectionate. Years ago when Mute was a fresh recruit to the SAS, he saw Smoke to be a snarky asshole who liked to poke fun at everyone. And he was correct, Smoke was a snarky asshole and his humour was often caustic but when it came to love he showered Mute with kisses and hugs, bought him flowers from Tesco when he did the groceries and enjoyed surprising him with little things whether his favourite bar of chocolate or the simple gesture of ordering take-out for dinner.

Between the two of them Smoke was much more expressive of his love though Mute had his own ways. After long work days he massaged Smoke’s sore muscles, peppered kisses over his body claiming to _kiss it better_ despite knowing it was cheesy. He found himself enjoying the role of being little spoon, mornings were blissful when he awoke with his head resting on Smoke’s chest, protected within his strong arms that wrapped tightly around him and sharing each other’s warmth. Within the privacy of their own apartment he expressed his love for him freely, exploring his own boundaries though when it came to the workplace, Mute preferred to keep it professional. Being the youngest operator he felt the need to prove himself, make others take him seriously and acting like a lovesick dummy wasn’t the best way to go about that.

Smoke liked to challenge his professionalism. It was the reason why Mute moved down to the workshop not long after they got together, Smoke enjoyed distracting him and still found ways. Every few minutes Mute’s phone would light up with notifications, whether a meme Smoke wanted to share with him or a dirty thought that passed his mind. Usually it was something dirty. When they were together, Smoke enjoyed his fair share of touching, sometimes a hand on the waist or the arse, the kind that screamed to everyone _‘hey, we’re together!’_ And Mute simply couldn’t avoid it.

This morning Mute decided to spend the day back at the office instead of the workshop. He took on the duty of preparing morning tea for everyone and found himself surprised he remembered how everyone enjoyed their tea. Face nuzzled into the back of his shoulder, Smoke’s arms tightened around his midsection. He clung onto him like a koala, following everywhere he went though for today Mute allowed it to slide. Usually he would tell him to go away and do something productive, which Smoke would usually comply with. This morning he didn’t say a word and wore a contented smile.

“Morowa’s cup is the red one,” Smoke murmured into his ear. “Two sugars… mmm, did you change your deodorant? It’s nice.”

Caught off guard for a moment, Mute paused then continued pouring water into each cup. “Old spice,” he answered and couldn’t contain his laugh when Smoke had nestled his face into the crook of his neck, knowing well enough the skin there was ticklish. He relaxed as Smoke pressed his lips against his neck, placing a little kiss. “By the way, I’m taking you out for dinner at that Mexican place you like. I made the reservations.”

There was a flash of surprise on Smoke’s face then he smiled. “You’re sweet,” he said and pecked him again, his grin flirtatious. “Come fetch me in the lab, I’ll be working on the canisters. I’ve had a new idea.”

Mute gave a soft chuckle. “The day I spend time in the office with you, you hide in your lab,” he said, feigning offense. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll come get you.”

There was a glint in Smoke’s eyes. “Perhaps you could come to the lab with me. Liu’s usually at the gym during the early afternoon,” he suggested, his voice husky which didn’t surprise Mute. Smoke had always had a high libido. “What do you say?”

“We’re not doing this,” Mute muttered back, his tone firm. “You know we’re not.”

Unbeknownst to them Thatcher was within earshot of their conversation. He took his own cup of tea when Mute added the milk and gave Smoke a questionable look. “Quit humping the poor lad’s leg,” he ordered with a gruff chuckle. “Date night for the two of you?”

Smoke gave an affirmative nod and put his hand on Mute’s shoulder, grinning stupidly. “Aye, it is. We’re gonna try for babies again so we can have little James’s and little Marks for you to take care of, hm?” He said crudely and laughed when Thatcher choked on his tea. “Grandpa Mike will be busy in nine month’s time.”

“Quit talking shite,” Mute said and rolled his eyes, a playful smile painted across his face. He pushed Smoke’s cup of tea into his palms. “Be careful in the lab, yeah?”

Smoke took the cup and cocked a brow. “That’s code word for ‘go away.’ I guess?” He leaned in to peck him on the lips. “See ya.”

 

* * *

 

When the clock crept towards half six, Mute had saved his documents and logged off. He checked his coat pockets over and confirmed everything was in place before he took the elevator down to the laboratory where he found Smoke and Lesion working away in protective suits. He stood behind the glass window and watched in admiration, enjoying the view of Smoke so engrossed in his work. His gas canisters were something he took immense pride in and despite dating for several years, Mute still had no idea what was inside them, he didn’t want to know either.

It felt cruel to interrupt him in such deep concentration though time was ticking and Mute’s stomach was growling. He knocked gently on the glass to catch his attention and gave him a small wave. Through the transparent window of his mask, Smoke’s face lit up with a smile, he motioned to indicate _‘one moment’_ and began to pack away his work into a messy pile. It was how he always was, he worked best with his things scattered around him. To him, it _was_ organised.

Out of the heavy suit that protected him from any fumes and spills, Smoke fixed his hair and straightened his shirt then put an arm around Mute’s shoulder. “I’m hungry as hell,” he murmured then quickly gave Lesion a wave before they left. “You got the keys?”

“Yep.” Mute produced the car keys from his pocket.

Dinner was as usual, the game of footsies that often resulted in Smoke’s shorter legs tangled in Mute’s to stop him from messing up his sneakers any more. They shared their meals, picking their forks at each other’s plate and trying a little bit of everything. Mute left the onions for Smoke, knowing he liked them and in return Smoke spooned over his beans. It was the tiny gestures that meant a lot, such as Smoke purposely pulling a face when he knew Mute was trying to sneak a photo of him wolfing down dessert. Mute enjoyed taking those candid shots, as much as Smoke enjoyed making the ugliest faces ever at him to see him cackle with laughter.

As they waited for their bill, Smoke caught Mute staring at him and for a moment he stepped back and realised he never quite noticed the love in Mute’s gaze, how he always looked towards him with that contented smile. It was the kind that made his stomach swirl with butterflies, the emotion he felt when they first started dating and everything was merry. It still was, though as they began to settle down more the look of pride in Mute’s eyes when he looked at him never diminished, he hadn’t had a moment where he didn’t feel fulfilment in being in his company.

“Daydreaming?” Smoke teased him, a sly smile across his face.

Mute returned back with a coy roll of the eyes. “I just love your gorgeous face,” he muttered and wiped his lips with his napkin. “I’d be snogging you if we were at home.”

“What’s stopping you from kissing me right here?” Smoke asked, leaning forward a little as his brow raised upwards in curiosity.

“The table.”

“Smartass.”

“And the family of five behind you. The woman hasn’t stopped staring at us, it’s somewhat uncomfortable.” Mute’s eyes flicked over Smoke’s shoulder and he followed his gaze, ending up making contact with a woman in her forties who was looking right back at them. “She’s giving us the stink eye.”

Their waiter returned with the receipt and wished them a good night. Slipping on his coat, Smoke gave a shrug. “Little does she know the two gay men she’s been staring at happen to be the reason why the world hasn’t been blown to bits by terrorists,” he murmured back and put an arm around his shoulder as they left. “Could I get the keys? I wanna take you somewhere.”

 

* * *

 

 

Smoke rarely drove. Mainly due to a chronic case of road rage and pure laziness. Though tonight he managed to keep his cool despite the abundance of terrible drivers cutting in front of them as they weaselled their way out of the city.

The stars in the sky blinked back at them as they emerged into dark country roads, passing by empty fields where the cows and sheep would graze at day. The sky was clear tonight, not a cloud to be spotted nor a breeze to be felt. With the car parked by the spaces at the forest entrance, they began their slow stroll, hand in hand and shoulders bumping every few steps. Smoke caught his tentative glances then took off his scarf and wrapped it securely around him.

“Better?”

“Mmm, thanks.”

“I told ya you’d be cold, babe. You never learn, do you?” Smoke let out a soft chuckle.

Mute gave him a cheeky nudge. “I didn’t expect you to bring me out here,” he retorted.

The long walk brought them to the edge of a hill overlooking the countryside. They settled upon some rocks, resting their weary feet as they breathed in the fresh air and allowed their thoughts to linger amongst the silence. Mute rested his head against Smoke’s shoulder and nuzzled into his scarf, trying to retain the warmth and get another whiff of the fine cologne that lingered on the fabric. He let his eyes close momentarily and smiled when he kept Smoke’s lips pressing a kiss onto his forehead.

When their eyes met there was something careful about Smoke’s gaze, almost hesitant. It wasn’t like him and Mute found himself growing suspicious.

“Remember when I brought you out here three years ago? I asked you to be my boyfriend then you started crying,” Smoke recalled, his smile growing wider at the fond memory.

Mute gave an embarrassed nod. “You called me a crybaby as a joke, yeah of course I remember that,” he murmured and felt his heart fluttering, all kinds of fuzzy feelings flooding his body. Endorphins, that’s what they’re called. “Admit it, you teared up a little too. I saw it.”

“Well, maybe I did. Looking back, I’m really fucking glad I asked you to be mine, ‘cos honestly, Mark, you bring me so much happiness. Just everything about you. Your laugh, your smile… the way you act smart all the time.” The both of them laughed, though the anxiety between them was mutual. Smoke gave Mute’s hand a squeeze and held it tightly. “I-I love you so much,” he managed to say before his lips began to tremble and he quickly produced a small black box from his pocket. “Mark Chandar, will you marry me?”

Caught off guard, Mute stammered for several seconds, the words trapped at the back of his throat. The blankness of his face had only made Smoke more nervous, along with the horrific pause between them as if his brain had stopped responding. “Y-Yes! Yes, I will-“ came the flurry of words and he began to rummage frantically through his pockets, desperately searching. “Hold on… let me…”

Laughter of relief came bellowing from Smoke. He watched expectantly as Mute got down onto one knee, traditional as always and with his own ring box in his palm, opened it to reveal a silver band. Suddenly overcome with the intimacy of the situation, Smoke’s vision began to fog up in tears and the cold air only made him sniffle more.

“Marry me, James Porter,” Mute implored softly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Ah, fuck, you’re making me cry, babe.” Smoke quickly wiped at his cheeks and tried to compose himself but the more he looked at Mute, the more his face began to crumple and soon enough he was nearly bawling like a child. Mute didn’t waste time to quickly pull him into a heartfelt embrace, grasping at his jacket to keep him close.

Mute nestled his nose into Smoke’s hair, inhaling the calming scent as he fought his own tears. Within his arms Smoke wept out of joy, squeezing him so tight he could barely heave in another breath. Pulling away to look at him, Smoke gently palmed his cheek and his bloodshot eyes gazed earnestly into Mute’s.

“I love you,” he whispered once more then leaned in to capture Mute’s lips, his hand moving to thread through his soft hair. It was like experiencing their first kiss all over again, the fleeting emotions and thoughts as they grasped and pulled for more of each other, the firmness of every touch. They pulled away but remained close, foreheads touching as they made eye contact once more. Under the moonlight he could spot the glint of Mute’s glossy eyes, the tears that threatened to spill any moment.

They exchanged their rings, sealing the pact of unwavering loyalty and boundless love. The cool metal of their rings quickly warmed against their skin. One of brushed titanium, a single sparking diamond embedded into the band, then the other of polished silver, conservative just as Mute liked it. Fingers interlocked, he admired how wonderfully their hands slotted together then looked up to catch Smoke’s fond gaze, his eyes still watery and red.

Mute leaned in to peck his lips. “Crybaby,” he teased.


End file.
